


Demolition Woman

by Phynxlegion



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Demolition Man
Genre: F/F, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 14:19:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 79,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phynxlegion/pseuds/Phynxlegion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Faith, having escaped the fiery destruction of the Cryo-Prison of San Angeles (Demolition Man), discovers the Hell Mouth is still active. This is the final edited version. The second part is now being started and will have its own section. This is a NOVEL-length story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally started back in 1999 and completed in 2005. After enduring the end of the show, this story has changed very little from its original conception and plot. I planned the entire story then, and it unfortunately took me way too long to finish thanks to work commitments, moving literally across the world, and surviving the pains of life. If I knew it was going to be a novel-sized story when I started…well, I still would have written it. So, enjoy this belated retelling of our favorite characters.

## Part 1

 

            Huddled around a shimmering globe, three women finish their solemn chant. Taking a deep breath, the young blonde opens her eyes and gazes deep into the green tumultuous haze within. Waiting in earnest, the elder woman to her left gingerly looks across the small table, anxious to see what glitters and shifts before her disciple. The other older woman, garbed in red flowing gown to the disciple’s right, quickly grasps the left’s hand and gives her a look, reinforcing her patience. With a slight sigh the younger girl continues, and speaks. “I see the children of light and darkness rising from an icy grave, to light the city in its darkest hour. I see the darkling visiting us, and asking a dark task, which I will be bound to complete.”

            The elder woman fidgets slightly and smiles. Squeezing the red-gowned woman’s hand she silently mouths, “I told you so.” Turning to the eldest, the woman replies silently, “I know.”

The younger girl’s patience begins to waver and clears her throat, ending the two women’s exchange. “There’s more…” This swings the attention back to the globe, and the disciple surges on, “… and the Hell Mouth will once again have a sentinel to guard against the night.” She gazes intently, desperate to decipher the cryptic message.

            The red dressed woman squeezes the elder’s hand, smiles, and mouth’s: “You didn’t see that!”

In frustration, the elder woman seethes out sarcastically, “I know!”

Suddenly the globe darkens and room is awash in night, ending the divination. Frustrated, the younger girl whines: “MOM!”

            In unison, the elder women say: “Sorry.”

 

 

# Los Angeles Police Department, South Central Division

**1996**

 

            Crashing through the doors of the captain’s office, John Spartan’s hour long ‘discussion’ regarding his orders to stay away from Simon Phoenix, went over as the captain had expected. Another door will have to be replaced, as John rips it from the hinges, as he slams it close. Storming from his desk, the captain shoves the door aside and screams to the fuming Sergeant Spartan:

“Your new case is on your desk! And stay away from Phoenix! That’s an order! Not that you obey those either.”

            John throws himself into his chair, and flips the manila colored file folder open to see a picture of a young woman. He immediately notes her short platinum hair, and wonders what a girl like this could have done to warrant his attention. _Kayla Meadows_. Running across the nearly one hundred listed offenses in her file, the last dozen catch his attention. Once again his temper is unleashed once more:

 

“Captain! When did the department become lap dogs to the FBI? This is a federal case!”

 

Smirking, the captain steps back out of his office, to reply. “When I have a Detective who can’t keep himself from tearing up the city! They need a liaison, and you’re it! This should keep you busy for a few weeks, and the Commissioner will stay out of my ass for some time, so that I can take a shit in GOD DAMN PEACE!”

 

“Why do we have to find her? That’s the Fed’s job, not mine!” John’s face reddens further, as his anger is at the breaking point.

 

The captain, turning to leave, seethes: “It is now. She’s somewhere in the city now, and the Feds are out of their league. They asked for a seasoned police detective to assist in the search, and the request came directly from the Mayor. Even though HE doesn’t like you, I threw in your name; because if you don’t screw it up, it will keep you on the force, and the mayor won’t be able to demand your badge on a platter. Got it!”

           

            Realizing the pointlessness of the conversation, he returns to the file’s contents. Reading over the list, numerous ones catch his attention. The first on the top of the list is the multiple murder of a sheriff and his deputy, in Louisiana. Apparently she stole the sheriff’s pistol and shot the sheriff and executed the deputy. _That was dated three years ago, and she’s been on the lamb ever since. A murderer, feminist, terrorist; hell even says she’s a lesbian. What a combination, all before she was nineteen._ Succumbing to an increasing curiosity, he flips mercilessly through the hundreds of reports over her past three years of criminal life. Eventually he comes across the numerous FBI attempts to apprehend her, all failed miserably. She always seemed to have the upper hand evading the police, and she always avoided direct confrontations. Furthermore, she seemed to have a strong cult-following protesting her innocence, which has kept her from serving any jail time.

            As he flips to through the endless files sheets, a radio report catches his attention, launching him towards the helipad.

 

**San Angeles**

**August 04, 2032**

 

            The ricochet of bullets pulls Faith out of her light slumber. The feeble screams for mercy are silenced with a final salvo of bullets. Springing up besides the door, she silently awaits the intruder. As the door slides away, a carbine rifle juts inside. A gritty-edged man, pokes inside, and meets eyes with her. In a scruffy voice, he mutters: “The prison’s been taken over. You with or against us?”

The horror of over thirty years of cryo-stassis and endless nightmares of being thrown into a cell and forgotten, overwhelm her. “Gotta another gun?”

Wearily sighing, he lowers his guard a bit, and breathes a sigh of relief. Motioning for her to follow, “Nope, but we need a hand moving some of the other freshly thawed cons, and getting them clothed. The name’s Quinn…Quentin Hyde.” Shaking her hand, he continues. “The boss needs some of you there…” Pointing at five other convicts just thawed out, he motions to head off to his right. “…and the rest come with me.”

            Faith, not relishing her new alliance, and taking part in a prison escape, reluctantly heads with the group assigned to the moving of the newly thawed convicts. At least this was better than rotting away uselessly in cell, being tortured with old fifties commercials playing over the loud speaker. She’d been waiting in her cell all day for her parole hearing, which she found out was delayed until early tomorrow morning. Considering the recent turn of events, she didn’t see much hope in that coming about either. She’d heard the name of the leader was a certain Simon Phoenix, who she’d too much about long before she was frozen: a real psycho case who got off in a big way with creating chaos and destruction. In her old days, she’d have shacked up with him in a heartbeat; but after her time with Angel and some serious jail-time, that was the last thing she wanted to do. _If ‘B’ could hear me now, she’d be doing somersaults in her grave. I wonder who’s the current slayer nowadays?_ Whisking down the corridors to the cryo-labs, she passes numerous half dead or frozen bodies. She slides to an abrupt halt when she suddenly sees a platinum haired visage, crunched up in the fetal position, shaking horribly from the cold. Stopping in her tracks, she bolts to a storage locker, and rips out a set of coveralls and begins dressing the young woman.

“Hey, the boss wasn’t talking about them! They weren’t on his priority list.” Down the hall another prisoner motions for her to follow him.

“Well, you’d better get going then! I don’t leave friends behind.” She screams back at him.

Frustrated, he waves her away and resumes heading towards the main staging area. Despite buttoning up the coveralls, the woman still shivers madly, and grasps for anything warm. Faith gently clears the short locks of hair from her face, and softly speaks to the cold and scared woman.

“Kay. It’s me, Faith. Can you hear me? Come on, I’m getting you out of here.”

Scooping up the small five feet four inch form, she abandons her alliance with the prison takeover. Kicking open a door labeled EMERGENCY STAIRS, she trots up six flights and crashes into a sniveling rotund gentleman in a kimono. “OH PLEASE DON”T HURT ME! I’M JUST AN ASSISTANT! I don’t even work in here! That lunatic Phoenix brought me here, and forced me to do those things!” he pleads desperately.

            Taken back by his obvious sense of self-preservation, she steps back once, and gives him a bit of room. He seems to not realize that she’s a convict, but soon his expression changes as he begins to notice her prison issued garments. “Well, that makes the two of us. I don’t want to be a part of his crazy plan either. But if I don’t get her to a warm, dry place, I don’t think she’ll make it. How do we get out of here?” Faith takes a chance that he is dumb enough to help her, in order to save his sorry butt.

            A little flustered and terrified, he reluctantly looks left and right, and hears numerous convicts heading their way. “Uh, I think this way.” Pointing to a service elevator.

Faith, weary of his trust, motions for him to go, and in minutes they are stepping out a rear service hatch into the clear crisp moonlight. A sudden shudder sends all three to the ground and the night’s skies are lit with the orange glow from the exploding labs. When she looks up, her rotund ally is fleeing with a speed unseen from such a large person. Laughing at the sight of flailing fabrics and feet, she snaps her attention back to her unconscious friend. With precision tenderness, she uncannily evaluates the data. Shaking her head at the newly discovered knowledge, Faith scoops up her small friend once more and heads for cover, as the shrill of police sirens fill the air.

 

**7 miles South of San Angeles**

**August 06, 2032**

 

            Careful not to disturb the wall of trash outside the abandoned gas station, Faith gingerly slides the fake wall aside and slips inside a hole in the wall of the building. Setting a large gym bag down beside her, she carefully returns the fake wall back to its original position. Satisfied with her handy work, she turns and locates the sleeping figure of Kayla. The young blonde lays motionless, even with Faith’s noisy approach. Opening up the gym bag, she removes a plastic container of dehydrated food, and a five-gallon jug of water. Laying everything to one side, she returns her attention to her sleeping companion. Tugging the blanket away from her face, Faith is surprised to see the drowsy flutter of platinum eyelashes, as she slowly stirs. Faith’s worried expression is replaced with a smile as Kayla’s emerald eyes wearily meet hers. Faith reminds herself to breath and whispers, “Hey sleepy-head. I brought you some food and water. I won’t give it high marks on taste, but it’ll get you back on your feet; even if it’s to run to the door, to dump your cookies.”

She’s rewarded with a light chuckle from her sluggish patient, which rouses her further. Struggling to raise herself on her elbows, Faith slides her arm underneath her to help her to sit upright. After a few fitful moments of obvious suffering, Kayla rests against the blistered cement wall and watches Faith struggle with reconstituting dinner. Her discomfort is soon forgotten as Faith argues with an old propane heater, and fights to keep her cool. Cursing under her breath, Faith wrenches with the rusty connections; and after a dozen minutes, she fires it up. The cool blue flame rockets three feet into the air, causing Faith and Kayla to lean backwards in surprise. A quiet moment passes; and after looking up at each other, laughter fills the darkening room.

Faith erupts from her sleep feeling the tension in her surroundings. As she considers dismissing it, she feels Kayla shift and tremble violently. Clutching her in her arms, she rides Kayla’s epileptic-like fit, listening to her whimper out guttural pleas. Tears begin to stream from Faiths eyes as she deciphers the seething words and fathoms the meaning. After ten minutes, Kayla slips back into a more restful sleep and Faith reminisces on Kayla’s fountain of vitality, years past. She was the only woman she knew that could catch up with her wild side, and then leave her in the dust. She was a man-hater, in those days, something Faith couldn’t fully understand. At least not back then; now, she knew of the rape and murder of Kayla’s girlfriend, had a lot to do with it. They had been together for five years, and she took it really hard. When she confronted the deputy, she discovered the Sheriff was protecting his son, the rapist. The Sheriff subsequently killed the deputy and tried to kill her; and in the struggle he was shot, instead. She was pinned with a double murder, and had nowhere to go. How fitting they should cross paths. The last thing Faith remembers is gently rocking Kayla in her arms before succumbing to sleep also.

****

 

Faith wakes to an empty bed, and bolts up to a crouched pose. Franticly looking around, she sees no signs or Kayla, and notices the fake wall partially ajar. Moving across the room, she plasters herself against the wall and covertly listens for any activity. As she slides out the door, she’s surprised to bump into a hobbling Kayla. Faith grabs and keeps Kayla from falling over; and is further surprised by Kayla supporting herself with a pair of quickly constructed crutches. Smirking at a startled Faith, she purrs: “So n-not too bad for an in-valid, huh?”

Faith, breathing a little easier, takes a large breath and scolds Kayla. “You scared the crap out of me! Don’t wander off like that.” coming alongside her, she helps her back inside and into bed.

After another comedic episode of starting breakfast, the two huddle together and curse having taste buds. The thick bland paste is quickly washed down with water after each swallow. They chuckle and pass jokes, but a moment of silence eventually levels between them. Faith takes a deep breath and tries to end the somber pause, “So… I’m going back to the city to try and find anyone I might have known before I was frozen. Uh… do you want me to get you anything while I’m there?” Smiling, Kayla leans over and points at the simmering pot. “Find some real f-food, and I’ll be a happy w-w-woman.” Pausing for a moment, she continues carefully. “D-do you know who you’re going to l-l-look for, now? You were g-going to find some Angel guy or his-s-s friends, yesterday. I take it that y-y-you weren’t l-l-lucky, huh?”

Faith looks down at her plate, and sighs. “Yah, they weren’t listed, and from what I found out, most are listed as dead. Angel… he wouldn’t have been listed. It’s complicated.”

Kayla notices the intentional pause, and bites her lower lip. “Sorry, I d-d-didn’t mean to pry. I… I was just wondering what your p-p-plan was now, that’s all.”

Faith’s eyes widen as she comprehends what Kayla might be thinking. Reaching forward she clasps Kayla’s trembling hands. “No… no. It’s nothing like that. Well, not anymore at least.” Shaking her head. “I’m not making sense… He had a knack at never having been on any ‘list’ or directory. He’s adept at being unreachable by normal means. I went looking in the places he’d be known in, and I was told he had left a number of years ago when all of his kind could no longer live safely in San Angeles.”

Kayla looks at her with a intense gaze, and ponders over Faith’s words. “I’m m-more confused, n-now. Uhhh… who now?”

Faith lowers her gaze to the pale hands rested in her hold. Gently she massages them between her hands, and she traces with her eyes the delicate curves and creases of a reputed cop-killer. The fingernails, short with gnaw marks, desperately need an emery board put to them. She shakes her head, unable to comprehend the origins of that thought. She soaks up the visage of the dainty hands cradled within her callused fingers. Her eyes wander upwards and stumble over the thick scars imbedded along and above her wrists. The gruesome gashes pail when Faith treks upwards and stumbles over the dozens of round burn craters etched into inside of Kayla’s right arm. Morbid shock creeps over her, and she loses count of the quantity and diameter of the scars. Her jaw hangs loosely as she notices a similar set on her other arm. Faith’s tears splashing onto her hands surprise Kayla, oblivious to Faith’s horror. She tears her hands free, tucks them into her armpits, clutches her chest, and looks away in shame.

Faith snaps out of her shock and locks her sights on the side of Kayla turned head. She reaches over and drags Kayla’s head to meet her gaze. Painful green eyes slowly pull upwards to meet hers, and scream to be let go. Faith fights the fury and rage building within her, and she pushes out coherent speech. “Who… when?”     

   Shaking her head, Kayla dryly replies: “D-does it matter? They’re d-dead. Everything from

b-back then, is d-d-dead. It’s in the p-p-past. I… I don’t w-w-want to d…” She leans over, concentrating on her tongue. “…dwell on the past.” Gazing up at Faith’s anguished expression, she leans over and buries her head, under Faith’s chin, and wraps her arms around her. “P-please don’t worry. Th… they’re gone, now. We n-need to start making new lives f-for each other. But if you could… c-could you see if y-y-you could find someone h-h-who can do ac-u-punc-ture. I-I think I can start w-w-walking f-f-faster. I’m j-just able to move my toes, this morning, a-and that’s an improvement over y-yesterday. K?”

Wearily, Faith nods and whispers, “I doubt I’ll be so lucky, but I’ll see what I can dig up. I have one last trump card to play, and it’s wild one at that. I’m probably the last person she’ll want to hear from, if she’s still around. Just keep your fingers crossed… and your toes, if you can manage.” Returning the hug, she helps Kayla get nestled in and is hiking back to the city by sunrise.

 

****

 

**San Angeles**

**August 07, 2032**

 

Strolling through the Bull Pen area, John Spartan strides into Lenina Huxley’s office and plops himself on the corner of her desk. Hardly noticing his entrance, Lenina scours through the list of escaped cryo-prisoners, and shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe how many murder-death-killers were able to get out of that fiery inferno.”

John, rubbing the bridge of his nose, sarcastically murmurs: “Thanks Lenina, and I got out safely too.”

Ignorant of his intended sarcasm, Lenina continues, “All but four were coded, and two of those were picked up last night. That leaves only a Felix Marlow and one Kayla Meadows. Detective Spartan, wouldn’t it be prudent to concentrate our efforts on capturing those who were coded, instead. I mean this will take countless tick tocks, and there are so many we can round up in the same time we spend trying to find these remaining two.”

Fumbling with a Rubix cube, John sighs and tosses it into the chair next to him and looks at the computer screen. “Because these are the criminals that will be a real problem to find if we don’t deal with them now. They’re termites. Let one into your house, and you won’t have a house for very long. Those who were coded can always be rounded up later, but these are the ones that we can’t trace, and can do a whole lot of damage. Wait a second! What was the name of the second one, again?”

Lenina looks at John with skepticism. “Who… Felix?” Looking over the stream of listed escaped prisoners, she sputters between Felix and Kayla comparing their list of offenses.

Frustrated, he reaches down and pulls her hands from the keyboard, leaving the screen filled with the intense gaze of a platinum haired, green-eyed killer. “No, her. I’ve seen her before, I think before I went in the freezer.”

Watching from a distance, Captain Zachary Lamb strolls over to the pair to add his two bits worth of info. “I don’t see how, she wasn’t apprehended until 2000 or 2001. She pretty much turned herself in too; she and another fugitive surrendered at the same time. Her trial was a media circus, and it was decided to have it in Los Angeles. There was no way she could get a fair trial anywhere near Louisiana, and the jurisdiction problems took two years to sort out. Even after she was convicted and frozen, her lawyers kept pushing the circumstantial evidence issue up until the big one hit. Then afterwards, no one really cared or was still around.”

Lenina listens intently while John is trying to sort out why he recognizes her. Breaking the momentary silence she squeaks out, “Wow. That was her?”

Zachary nods his head, understanding, and finishes. “Yup. That’s how come we have so much surveillance everywhere we go. Thanks to her, virtually everywhere we go in public is monitored and recorded. Her trial and tribulations are all on disk, if you want to look them over.” The boom of John’s fist striking the desk silences Zachary, making Lenina jump a few inches out of her seat. “That’s it! The Feds. I was supposed to help them find her back in 96.’ I was given her case file to help the Feds find her in L.A.”

Zachary begins chuckling uncontrollably and stammers, “Ahh, you got fried… err chilled… and Deitrick and Malone were handed that case, instead. Boy did she have fun with them. They didn’t wait for back up and tried to apprehend her by themselves. The Feds showed up ten minutes later…” He once again grips his stomach, trying to control his laughter. “… they found them handcuffed to each others wrists and ankles in a bed, and naked as jaybirds!”

Lenina, not quite comprehending all of the humorous elements, waits for either of them to regain their composure and stop laughing long enough to breathe. John, the first to catch his breath, wheezes out: “I wish I could have seen that! I never liked those idiots.” He suddenly turns to a slightly serious demeanor and asks, “You mean she didn’t kill them? That doesn’t sound right.”

With the humor suddenly bled dry, Zachary straightens up and nods in agreement. “That was mentioned in her trial, too; but the D.A. kept it suppressed until it was all over.

Lenina skims through the files, amazed at the quantity of failed attempts to arrest her. The most serious injuries she inflicted, to an officer or civilian, were gun shot wounds to the extremities, or broken bones. None of them were ever life threatening or really permanent damage. “Wow. They tried catching her over two hundred times, and she just walks in gives herself up one day. I think that thing you call a hunch is wiping off on me.”

John stops for a moment, pondering the meaning of her words. “That’s ‘rubbing off’ on you. Yah. Me too. If I remember right, I got the same feeling years ago, when I saw her file, but Phoenix got me a little side-tracked.”

Zachary comes beside the two detectives and looms over them. “Yah know, things could have gone very different, had you taken the case instead of going after Phoenix. I bet you could have brought her in, or she might have even surrendered to you, thinking you would give her a fair shake. Most of the time cops would go in thinking ‘shoot to kill’ the cop-killer.”

Mulling over his old friends words, John swallows dryly. “So, Detective Huxley, What does your new fine-tuned police hunches tell you to do?” He watches as she focuses intently on the screen, and he can almost swear he can see wisps of smoke snake out from her ears. Finally she replies,

“Well, if it’s up to me…” She tries to sound a bit more confident and sits up straighter in her seat. “… I’d say find this Felix Marlow, first; then, concentrate all our efforts on finding Kayla. She seems a bit less wild and dangerous than Mr. Marlow. He was convicted of dozens of murders and assaults against women and children, and he wasn’t even up for parole review until 2170. I think he’ll be a serious threat to the public, more than this Kayla will be. How’s that sound to you?”

Nodding his approval, he reaches over and slaps her shoulder. “Like a pro, Lenina Huxley, like a pro. We need to do research and get a profile for him, and try to narrow what his preferred victims are like, and lay a trap for him. This is the next skill a good cop hones, getting inside the head of the criminal.”

****

 

After her morning trek, Faith buries her anxiety and reluctantly focuses her attention finding the apartment. Thanks to a helpful doorman, Faith travels up to the forth floor, strolls through the hallway, and stops at the door, in question. With a quick swipe across her brow to clear imaginary beads of sweat, she raps quickly on the door. Long moments pass, and as she prepares to try again, the door swings open and a lovely young blonde blocks the doorway. Taken back by her, Faith fumbles out a few words. “Uhhhh I was looking for Willow Rosenburg. The doorman Alex said she was in four eighty-six…” She shoots her eyes back and forth double checking the apartment number, and if she might have the wrong place.

The blonde puts up a warm smile, and says: “This is where. You got the right place.” Over her shoulder she yells: “MOM. Your visitor is here.” Turning to Faith, she motions to enter and moves aside. “Please, come in. Have a seat you must be exhausted from your travels.”

Faith, a little confused, tries to explain, while entering. “I…. I think you have me confused with someone else. She didn’t know I was coming, I never told…” She’s cut off before she can finish. The young woman closes the door and shows Faith to the couch. “The name’s Lacey!” Faith gingerly, accepts her hand, and tries once more to explain; but is cut off again. “She knew you were coming; I don’t think she’s quite prepared for who would show, that’s all. I think she was expecting a complete stranger, not someone from her past.” Looking at her oddly, She finishes shaking Lacey’s hand introduces herself. “Faith. I don’t see how she could have known I was coming, I just decided to come here this morning.”

Laughing politely, Lacey smiles at her, and tries to explain slowly. “We knew. Can I get you something to drink, you look parched.” Fighting all out confusion, Faith shakes it off, and asks, “Yah… How about a Bud Light, if you got it. Hell, any beer will do.”

Lacey gets up and stops suddenly. Giggling, Lacey enters the kitchen and brings Faith a bluish-green concoction, which is far from what she was hoping or expecting. Lacey smiles and says, “Alcohol is illegal here. This will get your spirits up, without any inebriation. It actually tastes better than it looks. Just don’t smell it. Anyways, I’ll go see what’s taking my mother, and you just relax. Take in some vid and sit back.” 

            As Lacey turns to check on her mother, she halts suddenly and says, “Ah here you are.”

Upon hearing this, Faith shoots out of her seat and turns to face an extremely aged Willow. Her hair, devoid of its radiant color of years ago, is cropped short and neat. Her complexion seemed extremely depleted when realized she shouldn’t have been more than fifty-five. Walking from the bedroom following Willow, Tara strides in and smiles at Faith. Unaware of Willow’s freezing shock at seeing the woman who, last time they exchanged words were of anger and violence, runs face first into Willow’s back. Lacey quickly turns around to hide her face, and keep from embarrassing her mothers any further. Faith fidgets slightly and reconsiders the wisdom in coming to her for help.

“Look,” Faith begins edging her way to the door, “maybe I should just see myself out. I don’t want to intrude.”

Lacey cuts off Faith’s escape, smiling. “No intrusion here.” Turning to Willow she burns her gaze into her. “Mommy Willow has to forgive the past, in order to move on. That’s probably why she hasn’t aged as gracefully as Mommy Tara has.”

Willow, subduing her initial shock and rage, turns to see if Tara is all right and faces Faith. Willow knows the shame is smeared across her face, and can’t bear to look her in the eyes. She lowers her head, and gray locks cascade forward like curtains closing around her eyes. Faith is tugged to either bolt for the door, or try an approach that would make Kayla proud of her. Burying her fear, she closes with Willow and stoops to look Willow in her eyes. Willow gingerly raises her head, and gasps lightly as Faith smiles reassuringly.

“I’m sorry Willow. I’m sorry for what I did back then. I don’t expect you to forgive me, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you never did. I know what I did, I’m not proud of who and what I was, but I am sorry I hurt so many people. I’m especially sorry that I hurt you and B. And…” Pausing to reopen the distance between them, and she decides the moment is approaching its apex. “Willow, I came here for help, I won’t lie to you. I have a friend who might die if I don’t find a way to help her. She won’t say it, but I know it’s true. And… you’re the last person I can ask. But if you decide not to, I won’t hold any grudges against you, because I know it’s my fault that you won’t.” After a long silent moment, Faith wearily turns to leave.

****

 

            Crossing the foyer past the reception desk, Detective Spartan pauses to listen to the over-stressed receptionist franticly trying to calm a worried young man. Even with his constant reassurances, the sniveling gentleman sobs uncontrollably and hangs up. Collapsing in his seat, the receptionist covers his head with his hands as the console erupts with another emergency fiber-op call. Whispering to the console to magically silence, he dreads answering the call. John decides to intervene and walks up behind the bent over clerk.

            “Hey, uhh its Erwin isn’t it? Why don’t you just let the automated system get the calls, and answer them accordingly? It’s a whole lot easier.” Coming up behind the meek policeman, John pulls him upright in his seat and says: “If you need a break, I think they need some help down the hall getting the rounded up escapees into their cells?” Emphasizing the last part has the desired effect as Erwin sits himself up higher in his seat, attacks the flood of calls with renewed vigor. Striding away with a devious smirk on his face, John heads back into Detective Huxley’s office, and plops into the comfortable chair besides her desk. As if on cue, Lenina spins the computer’s screen around and motions for John to read. Before him are a short set of projected scenarios that Felix Marlow will most likely accomplish within a week. John had never been really impressed with what the police’s Criminal Analysis and Profiling computer has ever said. Reluctantly, John removes his sunglasses and draws closer to the screen. Not surprisingly, CAP projects that Felix will resume his criminal ways within seven days of his escape, and proceeds to give the details of what his next victim will most likely resemble. As John begins to open his mouth to comment on the uselessness of their computer, Lenina stops him in his tracks, and types a new set of commands into the computer. Pausing in surprise, he patiently awaits the new profile laid before his eyes. As it’s fed onto the screen, he tries to keep up with stream of data washing before of him. His demeanor shifts from frustration to focused glee. “YAH! Now that’s a profile! Wait a minute, there’s no way CAP could have come up with this intelligent report?” Interpreting her reaction, he continues reading her profile.

            Lenina Huxley swivels in her chair, grinning to the world. She had worked all morning thinking about what Felix’s motivations and drives would be focused to accomplishing, and she felt very confident of her work. John seemed to genuinely say the right thing at the right time when it came to encouraging her. She hated to admit it, but he was looking like an even better catch everyday! She figured that Felix would go into hiding and wouldn’t resurface for a few weeks, if not a few months. CAP was right that he would eventually return to MDK and sexual assaults, but he had to develop a secure identity first, find food and shelter, and eventually his old life style. But without a good job, he wouldn’t be able to buy the expensive clothes and valuables, which he used to have. He would steal and kill, to get those things, making hiding even more difficult as every day passed. He had only a basic education; therefore a high paying job was not available. He would eventually hear that the scraps would be allowed to register and receive ID implants, merely by proclaiming their identity. This is how he will disappear, and she figures will be their best chance on find a majority of the escaped cryo-cons, if not all.

            But she didn’t stop there; she went on to profile Kayla Meadows. Kayla, she figures, will either get a new ID, or will simply linger on the outskirts of the city. Venturing in to steal and pillage whenever it suited her, she would never actually put anyone in any real danger or harm; moreover, she might gain friends or accomplices who will help to conceal her whereabouts. She was an adept survivalist, who developed strong friendships easily, and protected those whom she called friends. Lenina sees this as her greatest weakness, which can be exploited, and thus they should let her run free for now, and concentrate their efforts on Felix. He will most likely harm others, and she will avoid all human contact. She actually believes she’s living off the land, within twenty miles of the city’s outer perimeter, probably in an abandoned building of some sort, and more than happy to be simply left alone. If anyone were to accidentally run across her, she’s more likely to hide and relocate, than harm anyone.

            John can’t suppress his admiration for the young officer. “Lenina Huxley, I don’t know how you do it, but you still find new ways to impress me! You wrote this? This is fantastic! Has the chief seen this yet?”

            Coming down from her high, she shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know. I sent him a copy, but I haven’t heard back from him yet. I imagine he’s been really busy this morning. Well, is there anything I could have done better on?”

            Skimming back over the profile, he’s dumbfounded by the volume and quality of her work. “I’m not an expert on these things, but I can’t see anything.”

            Just as he pauses to critique a minor point in the report, Erwin screams out in terror, and John jumps out of his seat to the foyer.

****

 

            Willow, torn to stand her ground and let Faith walk out her life, instead opts to intercept Faith. Knowing all too well her daughter would never let her live the moment down, decides to try and mend the past. “I’m sorry Faith. I… I can’t forget everything you’ve done. You really hurt Buffy, and the entire gang. We always wanted you to feel like one of the gang, but you always had that tough exterior which kept us miles apart.” Shifting nervously, she finds the strength to continue. “Even though I know in my heart you’ve changed, I can’t seem to get past all the memories buzzing through my thick skull. The past says that you haven’t changed and this is one big trick, while everything else tells me I’m wrong and that you’re right. I can’t forget what happened in the past, but…” Willow swallows the remainder of her pride, in one dry gulp. “I… I can forgive. If you can forgive my pig-headedness, I can get over the past. Deal?” Wearily, she forces a grin out, opens her arms, and invites an embrace. Faith’s jaw nearly drops open and she intertwines in Willow’s arms. As they part, they both must wipe away the stray tears and recompose themselves.

            For the rest of the morning, Willow and Tara take turns filling Faith in on the events which led to the infamous quake which remapped the entire western coast line, and finally ended Buffy’s tenure as the Slayer. Faith had figured the quake wasn’t a coincidence, and solemnly listens to the events as they unfolded. Tears are shed when she hears how Buffy sacrificed herself to keep one of the Dark Lords of Oblivion from entering this realm. Her death sealed the rift between the underworld and Earth, and the Apocalypse was once again averted. Giles took her passing the hardest, and became a recluse, while Xander moved up to Seattle and formed a construction company. “He has four kids, and comes to visit us once a year. He usually treks out to the cliffs to visit Buffy’s grave, as with everyone else. Giles, passed away soon after Buffy’s death, and left his store to us. We sold it not too long after that, when they decided to build San Angeles. We had our little miracle here,” She reaches over and lightly squeezes Lacey’s hand. “And we etched a new life here.” As they continue reminiscing, Lacey turns the Fiber-Op screen on and scrolls through the two dozen various channels. She abruptly stops and franticly waves her arms in the air, grabbing everyone’s attention.

            All eyes turn to see Faith’s image plastered across the video screen. After listening to a short description of her, the image is replaced with another face, followed by their listed offences and threat to the public. Willow reaches over and grasps Faith’s hand and says, “You know what you have to do, right?”

            Grimly, Faith nods and looks at the three women sitting around her. “I won’t go back into some damn cell! I’ve got someone to take care of, and if they lock me up and throw away the key again, I don’t know if I’ll be able to live with myself knowing I let her down. Kayla’s defenseless right now. She can’t walk, or do much for herself. I can’t do it. She’s my responsibility.” Getting up, Faith is determined to help her friend. Willow springs out of her chair, and catches Faith’s arm. “Listen dummy. They can track you anywhere in the city. If you want to help her, you’ve got to clear your name, first. How about this: I escort you to the station, and Tara and Lacey, go help your friend. They can take some food, bandages, etc, and make sure she’s okay. I promise I won’t let anyone harm her, or anything.” Faith’s heart thunders inside her chest, and she fights the urge to run for safety. Pleading, Willow tightens her grip on Faith’s arm, forcing her to acknowledge her. Faith suppresses her fears, and looks Willow in the eyes. “Promise me you won’t let anyone take her in. She won’t last a minute in a prison, and I owe her my life. I owe her even more than you can begin to imagine, so you must promise me this.” Looking up to Tara and Lacey, she demands an answer. Willow thinks over what is asked and nods her approval. “I promise. I promise that they won’t let anyone take her away. Lacey is a paramedic. She’ll take good care of her. Okay?” Reluctantly, Faith agrees and palms an object into Lacey’s hand, and whispers privately into her ear. As she gets up to leave, she says “Give it to her. She’ll trust you more. She’ll understand.” Nodding, Lacey and Tara drive out of the city; while Willow, after having Faith change into a clean outfit, takes her to the police station.

            The San Angeles Police Department, not as spectacular looking with only the glass ‘A’ still standing, was still impressive to the eye. After finding a parking spot, the duo strolls through the entrance and ask for directions from one of the many informative terminals. To Faith’s surprise, they have numerous doors opened for them and are never stopped or interrogated. Looking over a helpful diagram in the main entrance hall, they quickly make their way to the ‘Bull Pen’ to speak to a detective on duty. Faith can’t help to gawk at the fabulous interiors and layouts for a police station. Passing through a set of double doors they see a lone reception desk laid before them. A young police officer, approaching his wits end, calms an even more flustered citizen, on the other end of the fiber-op phone, a video phone-like device. Willow silently motions towards the bewildered desk sergeant, and they both head over to his tall desk counter. As they arrive, he’s finishing his fiber-op call with the distraught citizen, and buries his head in his arms once the call is disconnected. Obviously unaware of the two women standing in front of his desk, he continues to lie dormant dreading the next call to come into his desk.

            Willow looks to Faith, then back to the Desk Sergeant. Shrugging their shoulders, Willow clears her throat, loudly. The thunder of her rattling throat, tears him upright, startled. Shocked with the presence of the two women, he shuffles a folder around on his desk, and tugs at his shirt. Sitting up straighter, he finally gets a good look at the people before him. To his right, the elder lady, clad in a red, green, and orange striped sweater and baggy pants, gives him a meek smile. Returning the smile, he shifts his gaze to the shorter young lady to her right. Her long raven hair, draped over a flattering scarlet top and black trousers, shines radiantly in the pale light of the reception hall. Taken back by Faith’s sweet smile, he stammers out his question incoherently. Pausing to catch both his breath and tongue, he slaps his jaw shut and swallows dryly. Rolling his eyes around inside the sockets searching for the means of simple speech, he resigns to try once again.

“HOW…” He stops to lower his tone drastically, and resumes. “How can I help you two ladies today?”

            Willow insists on speaking for the two of them and immediately responds. “Well, it’s a long story really. It all began this morning when my friend here, Faith, showed up at my domicile, asking for help.”

            Faith interjects immediately, by saying: “That’s right, there was no way she could known I was coming to see her.”

            Willow nods in agreement, and her eyes widen momentarily. “Yah, that is right, sorta. We all were surprised when she showed up. And even more surprised when we saw her picture flashed up on the city bulletin channel, much later. You see, she didn’t know you were looking for her until then, and of course she would have came here first, had she known. Isn’t that right?”

            Faith sighs heavily, and fights back the sarcastic grin screaming to wash over her. Instead it sneaks out in her words. “Oh, absolutely. Without a doubt.” The sarcastic taint to her voice brings Willow’s serious gaze upon her, and distracts her from continuing.

            Erwin, still spinning from the last call, seems bewildered and confused by the two women. Shaking away his dizziness, he rubs the bridge of his nose and ponders whether helping downstairs with the jailers, wasn’t a more favorable task at the moment. Resigning to get these to women on their way, and hopefully take a well-deserved break, he breaks up the rambling between the two. “LETS… lets get a name first, how does that sound?” Surprised by his sudden tone, Willow looks up him in bewilderment. “My name? I’m Willow Rosenburg.” With a sigh, Erwin wearily begins typing Willow’s name into his terminal, hoping by bringing up her profile it will shed some light on why they are standing in front of him. Before he can finish typing her first name, the elder woman interjects once more.

            “BUT! But, you probably want her name, she’s why we’re here.” Willow chimes, aware that the young man’s patience is probably wearing extremely thin now.

            With an even louder sigh, he backspaces out her name and turns to Faith for her name. As he types in ‘Faith Lehane,’ he half expects to find a list of traffic tickets or VMA violations. _Shoot, they just might want to question her regarding something important._ When her criminal record as a convicted MDK felon and cryo-prison escapee flashes before him, he’s left speechless. As the blood drains from his face, so does any coherent thought. This is further demonstrated as he falls backwards out of his chair and screams mindlessly.

            Amidst the screaming and chaos, Willow looks over to Faith and murmurs, “So… get this a lot when you travel?”

            Faith shrugs her shoulders and replies, “Nah, just in police stations.” Willow nods her head understandingly, and patiently awaits the swarms of police to descend upon them.

            From Lenina’s office, John crosses the distance to Erwin’s side and looks at the two women standing harmlessly in front of the desk. Numerous officers, standing up from their desks, hesitate approaching the screaming officer. Only when John grips his shoulder, does he stop screaming. In a calming tone, John says: “Why don’t you take a break, and I’ll take these two on, okay?” Erwin, babbling incoherently, is led away. John strides up to the desk and clasps his hands together.

            “Well, let’s try this again.”

Willow, chimes in immediately with her name, and turns to Faith. As she opens her mouth to reply, John cuts her off. “And you’re the most wanted Faith. So… finally decided to haul yourself in huh? Wise move, or did she subdue you?” After motioning towards Willow, his sarcasm hangs on his final words, and Faith does a half smile. John looks around at the gawking crowd of cops, and motions for the duo to follow him to Lenina’s office.

****

            John looks down at his watch and notices he’s overdue for a lunch break. After two hours going over her testimony of her escape, she still won’t budge on one point: Kayla Meadow’s whereabouts. Lenina strolls in, sits down across Willow, and ponders how these two could even be connected. She’s snapped out of her deep thought when Faith suddenly shoots out of her seat and pushes it across the room. Willow quickly closes with the distraught woman, and gets her to sit back down. In an apologetic tone John tries to rephrase his last statement.

            “Look. I’m not saying that if you don’t tell us where she is, that we’ll lock anyone up. On the most part, based on the preliminary psychological evaluation, the parole board gave a green light to your parole and I see no reason to dispute that. Furthermore, we have video of the prison break, and it clearly shows you had little to no active participation in the deaths of the sixty guards and technicians. I’m just saying that it’s in both of your best interests that she brings herself in. She can easily come in like you did, or we can have an escort available to expedite things. I’m not in any position to grant her parole. In fact she wasn’t up for another hundred and twenty years.”

            Faith’s temper surges once again, bringing her out her chair and eye to eye to John’s face. The fury and rage radiates between them, and Faith seethes: “SHE CAN’T WALK, MORON! SHE’S PARALYZED THANKS TO YOUR DAMN CRYO-PRISON! She’s also covered in scars and burns on her arms and legs! She didn’t have them before she went in, and there’s no way she would have let anyone do that to her in general population. She would have had to been restrained. I know that as fact!” A low squawk from the VMA monitor kicks out a small piece of paper on the other side of the room. Lenina stands from her chair, and joins the battle of wills at the desk. “Look Faith! Why don’t you and your friend here, step back and cool down, and we’ll step out of the office to confer with our Chief. How does that sound?” Willow nods in agreement, and leads Faith to the other side of the office, while Lenina takes John out to the Bull Pen area, and closes the door behind her.

            “Listen John, this condition she’s describing is called hibernation sickness. It’s not likely to clear itself up. It’s not talked about much, for obvious reasons. Second, I accessed Kayla’s medical examination files and photos, from when she was imprisoned, and they mention nothing of the scars, which she described.” John, feeling that he was just lied to, pivots around to storm back in to call her a liar, only to get his arm hooked by Lenina, cutting him off entirely. She continues in a more direct tone.

            “BUT… there is an examination file she had before she was frozen which describes in detail those very scars.” John looks at her in a concerned expression and listens intently to what she says. “It’s because of her that we have all aspects of the criminal trial process monitored. No one has a private moment, no questioning goes unrecorded, no one can talk to a suspect or prisoner, without it being logged and recorded. After she was frozen, a couple dozen officers at the state hospital were convicted of human rights violations over a twenty year period. If she wasn’t frozen and there weren’t a surplus of witnesses, she would have been thawed to give testimony. The burns and scars, which her files describe, are the same that other patients had who were patients at the facility. They tortured, raped, and almost killed numerous people there; and if she had half the spunk and attitude as Faith, it’s most likely they weren’t very nice to her. When she was released, she was noticeably reserved, and sedate. The D.A. said she was acting, but we know now that wasn’t so. And one last note. Do you want to guess who the other inmate that surrendered herself with Kayla?”

            As the information sorts itself out in his head, the connection flashes before his eyes. “Faith? No wonder she’s defending her so much!” Lenina just nods her head, agreeing with him. “Well, I talked to the Chief already, and he wants her to tell us where Kayla is hiding, so we can pick her up, and to guarantee her parole; but, I don’t think she’ll nark on her friend. She’d rather rot away in a cell, than tell us, and she’s not budging. What’s she been trained to do, after her parole? I hope not another seamstress.”

            Lenina looks down to her hand computer, and skims through the file and replies: “Nope. She’s been best suited for a paramedic. Wow. That’s as tough of a job as a police officer, except messier. Good paying job too.”

            Mulling over the facts, though a bit jealous of her “being better suited” as a paramedic, John plots a devious plan, to please everyone. “Okay partner, what do you think about this? We work a deal that Faith is assigned as guardian to Kayla, and we simply visit her in home. She’s temporarily restricted to where and when she can go only until it’s determined she’s no longer a menace to society. She was never a violent criminal, other than her initial conviction, and is now most likely unable to hurt anyone, anyway, right.”

            Skeptically, Lenina considers John’s proposal and says: “Chief Earle will still have to agree to this, and it’s not likely he will. Besides, why are you so interested in helping out a convicted police murderer?”

John dismisses her question by saying, “That’s Cop-Killer. Look, her whole case stinks. I knew it when I saw it thirty-six years ago, and it still reeks. My hunch tells me, a lot of what happened on that night, isn’t what really went down. There’s not enough solid evidence, that you’d find linking her to the shooting. There’s no mention of ballistics, forensics, photos reinforcing her presence; just explicit photos of dead cops, and verbal statements by one eyewitness, who’s directly related to one of the slain officers. Her statement is exactly opposite of what the eyewitness said, and they believed his over hers. No evidence supported either one of their positions, and yet they convicted her. The D.A. and judge suppressed all of the evidence regarding the murder of her girlfriend, and that was the basis of her innocence. She thought she could get a more favorable trial out of state, and she was wrong. I’d be willing to wager that the dead cop had direct ties to the Feds, and they simply kept the hunt going.”

Lenina shakes her head, trying to make sense of the twisting curves of the case in front of them. Crossing her arms, she looks away to the far side of the Bull Pen. Officer Santiago and Cummings struggle with one of the recently re-captured cryo-cons. She was just thinking that another officer should be helping them, but he eventually subsides long enough to escort him out of the Bull Pen area, and to their makeshift jail, down the hall. “I have to admit, after you’ve killed two cops, a few more, isn’t going to make that much of a difference. And, it’s not like she’s never had an opportunity, either. In my book she had over two hundred opportunities, and never killed any of them.”

John surmises he can convince the Chief to go along with his plan, so long as Lenina backs him up. “Let’s go and run this by him.” Lenina raises her hands up and shrugs, “Sure. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

 

****

 

            Bringing the car to a halt, Tara cautiously eyes the abandoned gas station. The weeds, nearly twice as tall as Lacey, surround the small, faded white and green painted building. The station’s lighted sign, buried under years of neglect and growth, rusts away amongst the vegetation. The huge plastic cover, nowhere in sight, probably was stolen or destroyed when it toppled down in the first place. Tara opens her door and follows Lacey out of the car and towards the side of the building. The thick vegetation, sharp needle vines draped across the wall, offers no opportunities for close inspection. Lacey absently tries to grasp the edges of the vines, only to discover they are interwoven with trash and debris. Tearing away her hand in pain, Lacey curses lightly under her breath, while Tara fights a snicker. The vines, covered in bristling sharp thorns, wear Lacey’s blood with honor.

            “You still do everything the hard way.” Tara pops. Taking a short breath and exhaling it, she rapidly repeats:

_“Forces of light,_

_Watcher of the garden,_

_Scatter our blight,_

_Unsnarl your partition,_

_Clear our hazard,_

_End the painful burden.”_

 

            Before Lacey’s eyes, the tangled web of weeds and vines, release their grip of the wall and surrounding debris, disappearing over the roof and behind the corner. In a matter of minutes, the entire wall is free of the foliage and reveals a rickety spring mattress skeleton. Even more shocking, is a lethal mantrap, set to swing upon anyone who unwisely attempted to move the rusty wall. Looking the trap over, Tara quickly finds the trip wire, and tosses a branch against the tiny string. With a loud whoosh of air, the arm with a pair of long, sharp spikes, imbed into the wall. The same wall Lacey had only minutes prior, had been carelessly standing in front of. Sucking in a gulp of air and swallowing, Lacey stares blankly at the spikes buried four inches into the concrete. Tara appears next to her ear and whispers: “See why I look, before I leap! You should have seen your face, you would have known what you look like undead.”

            Turning back towards the spring mattress, Tara carefully slides it away from the hole in the wall, and announces herself. “Hello? Kayla?” Shaking her head, Tara gingerly steps towards the opening, only to stop abruptly in her tracks. Looking over her shoulder, she feels Lacey pushing to follow her in. Reversing her direction, Tara guides Lacey back out with her. Gripping her shoulders, she looks Lacey in the eyes, and says: “You better let me do this alone. An old woman is far less threatening, than a strong young thing like you.” As Lacey opens her mouth in protest, Tara silences her immediately. “I don’t want to hear it! Stay here.” Tara turns once again and squeezes through the small opening in the wall, alone.

            Long moments pass as she lets her eyes adjust to the darkened room. Broad streams of light, from between the seams in the boarded windows, shoot from one side of the room to the opposite. Tara’s vision quickly compensates for the new setting and she gingerly steps further into the unknown. Straining to make out a human shape, she scans the room for any movement. Nothing seemed to be moving; even the air stood motionless, impeding her search. Beams of light, illuminating thick dusty air, blind her from clearly discerning the details of the room. Side-stepping along the wall she pokes her head down to get a better look at a deceptive pile of debris. As she approaches the junk pile, it suddenly shifts and extends a thin pointed stick. Tara freezes in her tracks, recognizing what the stick is connected to. All too familiar with vampire slaying, it hadn’t been that many years since she had to use a crossbow. Discovering that her mouth had suddenly gone dry as cotton, she painfully tries to swallow.

“Uhh… Kayla? Uhh… F…. Faith sent me. Uhh… Us.” Tara stammers cautiously and points to outside. A raspy voice responds from the pile.

“L… liar. She’d never t…tell anyone w… where I w… was at.” The exhaustion and weariness in her voice confirms that they got here in the nick of time. Tara notices the tip of the arrow shaking erratically, and slowly digs a small object from her beige pants pocket. “She…” Producing in her outstretched hand, Tara offers a small paper flower, delicately folded, and somewhat crushed. “…she gave me this. And, she told me to say that she couldn’t live without her Kryptonite? I don’t think I fully understand it, but she figured you would.” 

            Across the room, the mound of trash falls over revealing a semi-conscious Kayla. Rushing to her, Tara Screams: “LACEY! Get your kit! NOW!” Leaping to her side, Tara reaches her, as Kayla’s head grotesquely cracks against the concrete floor.

 

****

            What seems like an eternity passes for Faith. Detectives Spartan and Huxley had been gone for fifteen minutes discussing the terms of her parole to their chief, and they still were not back yet. She paced franticly, and Willow just sat calmly reading a book. She never understood how that nerdy girl just acted so calm and collected. A frustrated sigh escapes Willow’s lips and she slaps the book closed. “Please sit down. It’s not going to make anything go quicker.”

            Faith hisses an anxious sigh, and closes with the ever patient Willow. “How can you just sit there? They’re only deciding mine and Kayla’s futures!” When Faith spins around, she eyes a sudden movement in the corner of her eye. She focuses on the double doors across the room, as they fly open from a cop being thrown through them. Like perturbed hornet’s nest, everything explodes to life. As numerous police jump out of their seats, the room floods with the previously jailed convicts. Grabbing the nearest object, they turn anything can get their hands onto, into an effective weapon and charge the wall of police. Out-numbered five to one, the untrained officers are easily knocked unconscious or thrown out of the way. As Willow turns to ask Faith what she was going to do, she realizes she’s already flown through the door.

            Leaping onto a desk, she catapults herself over the heads of the cops, planting her foot across the face of a surprised escapee. As he slumps to the ground, Faith presses her attacks against the leading edge of the mass. Alternating from her left to her right, she follows a parrying block with a solid kick to the rear, dropping a grimy skinhead who was planning to grab her. Within a minute, Faith finds herself having stand atop the unconscious bodies, in order to maintain her advantage. Feeling she might be putting herself into a trap, she catapults herself over the heads of two convicts, who try in vain to grab her as she passes. Landing firmly on a desk, she spins around to see the two, whom she flew over, already turned around and closing with her. She grins evilly, and launches herself into the two foul-mannered convicts; they double over in pain. After head bunting the first one, she plows her elbow into his companion’s face. Picking herself off the floor, she drags the first one she head-butted to his feet. Not surprising, he can barely stand, and she simply lets him fall back onto the floor, clutching his head. Faith decides to survey the fight and choose her next target, when she’s suddenly grasped from behind. A strong set of arms bind her arms to her sides, and she sees another escapee rapidly approaching, carrying an office chair like a baseball bat.

            Detective Spartan, after pounding the sense into one prisoner, turns to see most of his work is almost done. Lenina is just cuffing the prisoner she was fighting, and numerous cops have managed to get the upper hand in their fights, as well. What he’s most surprised to see, are the dozens of convicts lying unconscious near the far side of the room. He launches into action as he sees Faith pinned from behind by one really big bruiser. The guy seems to be almost twice as big as her, but the guy with the chair, seems to really make matters far worse. Eying a glow-rod from the floor, he swoops down, grabs it from the floor, and charges. Fifteen feet from her, he’s amazed to watch Faith smash her foot across her captor’s face, thereby releasing her at the last moment. The heavy metal chair smashes across his chest dropping him a heartbeat later. Shocked at what he did to his companion, he barely registers Faith planting a roundhouse kick to the back of his head; joining his unconscious companion on the floor. She registers the towering form of Detective Spartan approaching with a club, and she quickly raises her hands partially up in the air, in a pseudo-surrender pose. He seems to be taken back by her sudden change in stance and realizes how he’s coming across with his glow-rod in hand. Motioning for her to drop her hands, he asks: “You alright? I thought you were a goner for a moment there.”

            Grinning, Faith brags: “Nah, didn’t break a sweat or a nail… five by five.” She smiles thinking that Kayla would be proud her, knowing she’d finally put all her martial arts training to good use for once. Grabbing the unconscious convict by the back of the shirt collar, she looks up to John with a huge smirk, and asks, “Where do I dump the trash?” Chuckling, John swings open a desk drawer and tosses her a wad of restraint cords, and shows her how to use them.

 

****

 

Within twenty minutes, the entire bunch is herded to the cells. Faith finds herself sitting alone in Detective Spartan’s office with the stress-free Willow, casually working some knitting needles and yarn from her over-sized handbag. Faith, finally letting her anxiety get the best of her, leans over, and scolds Willow. “How can you just sit there and play with those needles… besides when were you ever the homebody with yarn and such?”

Ignoring her ranting, she replies without taking her eyes off her work. “I was too, a homebody type. Besides you wouldn’t understand. It’s an old person thing. When you’re my age, you’ll understand.”

            Sighing loudly, Faith leans back over, crosses her arms against her chest, and tries to relax. She turns in time to see Officers Spartan and Huxley, leaving their Chief’s office and heading quickly towards them. The sour expressions on John’s face, tells way too much to her. She’d heard of him in the papers, the “Demolition Man.” Got jailed for taking the law into his own hands, and frozen like her; though back then she’d never imagined she’d wind up in the same frozen prison. He opens the door for the lithe Officer Huxley, and closes it firmly behind him. Taking their seats behind the desk, they open the terminal and clear their throats.

            Officer Spartan begins. “Okay. We talked to our chief, and if it weren’t for the unexpected turn of events this morning, I doubt he’d be very open to your parole conditions. But we had to add some terms that you have to agree to, before we can grant your full parole. But let’s get to the specific points. First, the psyche board green-lighted your parole already, and there’s no reason for us to change that. Next, under the new system, I’ve been assigned as your parole officer. You have to check in with me every week for 2 months, then once a month. Second. Officer Huxley has been assigned as Ms. Meadows Parole officer. She too must check in with her once a week, but for 6 months. But here’s the clincher. Your paroles were granted as long as you agree to serve, temporarily, as a deputy.”

Willow pauses from her needle and looks at the officers with a perplexed expression. “Uh, excuse me. Isn’t there like a law or something saying that anyone convicted of a felony, can’t serve as a cop? I believe I read that once.”

Raising his hands reassuringly, John continues. “Yes, I brought this to our Chief’s attention as well, but under unusual circumstances like this,” John pauses thinking, that no one could have ever imagined the turn of events the city is in today. “…we can deputize individuals for public duty. Now a days, we can’t be too choosy for whom we employ. Faith has unique skills, which the department has dire need of.” Turning towards Faith, he continues. “We were all very impressed with your choices and performance out there, and we need someone to help our units to deal with real criminals, not the types they’ve had to counter up until now. You’ll be granted limited authority, and you’ll never have to operate by yourself. Actually, you’d be riding with Officer Huxley here. She’s not the typical Officer, unfortunately; most cops here couldn’t handle a simple purse-snatcher. She’s picked up a lot, and is capable dealing with even dangerous criminals. This duty won’t last long; just long enough to restore order and get everything back to working order. A month. Two tops. Then we’re asking you to stick around to act as maybe a physical trainer, or something. We want you to teach the new recruits how to cope with dangerous types; you know, fighting techniques. Under those conditions, we’re prepared to grant parole for both you and Ms. Meadows.”

Faith shakes her head, forcing back her shock. “So, you’re not interested about having Kay bring herself in?”

Lenina gingerly speaks up, before John can form the right words. “Well, he was, up until thirty minutes ago. Your friends, Tara and Lacey checked her into the hospital. Apparently she collapsed, and she’s in the O.R. right now.” She watches as Faith starts to rise from her chair, and rises up herself. With a reassuring hand she stops her and says: “Once we’re done here, I’ll drive you both there myself.”

John, not realizing he too had risen from his chair, sits back down. “If you agree to the terms, we can end this now, and Ms. Huxley here, will take you.”

Faith, disturbed by the news, tries to think clearly and mutters, “I have no problem with the checking in stuff, or the deputy dog duty. But I don’t have the patience for teaching. Never had, never will.” With thoughts of Kayla rushing through her head, she can barely think, let alone talk. “But, I do believe my Sensei would be.” Smiling a bit, she realizes the simple beauty of her plan. “Yah, I think she would be.”

Lenina asks enthusiastically, “Who is she? Where can we find her?” John Chuckles softly, guessing the answer.

Faith notices his amusement, and says: “Kay. She taught me most of the special moves you saw today. And if she can teach me, she can teach anyone. But that would be her decision; I won’t speak for her. I’ll agree to everything except that. She’s not the same person I knew, before I was frozen. She’s messed up. She can’t walk, and her speech isn’t the same anymore. If I were her, I wouldn’t be very open to the idea of helping any of you all. But, I’m not her. She might be interested in teaching a few, and if she needs help, I’ll help her. But I won’t force her to, nor will I go against her wishes, at any time. Got it?”

John looks at Faith perplexed, on how and when she took control of the negotiation, and laughs it off. “Sure. I consider it a done deal, then.” Standing up, he motions to follow him to the chief’s office to sign a few papers, and Lenina quickly rushes the odd pair to the Hospital, soon afterwards.

 

****

 

            Crawling through a deadly labyrinth of collapsed caves and sewer tunnels, Felix Marlow slides the last boulder out of his way; the crack and shudder of the boulder cascading down amongst other loose rocks echoes through the tight confines of the tunnel. With a flashlight, he searches the opened room for the source of his infernal calling. Through the eternity of cryo-sleep, his master summoned him, demanded his presence, cursed his name, forsake him, and then silence. The silence was far more disturbing to him; but it didn’t last very long. Soon, the cursed silence was replaced with a dreary beckoning for aid and redemption. The helplessness of his master’s tone and strength, tore at is very fiber.

            When the opportunity arose for escape from his frozen prison, he wasted no time. Killing a young couple, as they sat having a quiet picnic, fulfilled his sick soul’s needs for both food and pleasure. Not wasting too much time, he swapped the dead man’s clothes for his, and grabbed the food basket for his continued flight. All day and night he sprinted towards the ruins of the once infamous Sunnydale. Once known as the murder capitol of the world, Sunnydale was destroyed during the last attempted invasion from a demonic realm. His master had everything planned out to the last detail, except how to counter the slayer and her band of witches and mortals. Felix could only see freeze frames of his mater’s death, and even they were too disturbing to him.

            Crawling through the hole, Felix falls face first down the rocky slope into the vast chasm of the void. His flashlight skitters and tumbles from his grasp, and slides dozens of feet from his fingertips. His free fall ends suddenly as his face mashes against a large boulder near the bottom of the pit, and he wraps himself around the immobile object. Gripping his face, Felix pulls himself up and stumbles over to his light. Wiping his face with his hand, he’s surprised to discover that nothing is broken or torn open from his fall, except his pride. Getting his bearings, he shoots the light across the room and drops it as he screams in terror. The visage of pure and utter agony was etched into his memory for eternity, and he crumbles into a weeping mournful form. Before him, crucified against the farthest wall, hangs a burnt corpse of a humanoid winged monster, nearly nine feet tall. Seven long metal javelins, one through each of his arms and feet, one in each of it’s outstretches wings, and the last one imbedded in its chest, pin the great beast to the cavern wall, resembling a science lab autopsy.

            An agonized and weary voice fills his ears. At first he doesn’t register it, but soon, he can’t ignore it. It cuts into his pain and sorrow, and pulls him back to this world. The authoritative tone demands his attention, and he slowly silences his sobbing to acknowledge the awesome presence. Carefully, he mutters: “Master? Is that you?”

            From inside his head, the voice scratches: _“Felix… you’re late… Too late, actually.”_

Felix begins blubbering mindlessly, begging for mercy and forgiveness, but is silenced once more.

“Felix! You can only redeem yourself, if you help me now, during my weakest hour. I sit on the threshold of eternal damnation, and the doorway to this world; they are extremely close here. You must open the gates of the underworld, so I can pass unhindered into yours. When you do, I’ll be free to walk with you, and pass my graciousness upon you. Do this, and I’ll make you my minion of destruction by blessing you with a fragment of my essence. Fail me, and I’ll forever curse you with an eternity of suffering.”

Felix praises continuously of his master’s power and might, long after he sets out on his master’s list of items to gather, and tasks to accomplish.

 

****

 

            Waiting out in the O.R. waiting room, Tara, nervously flips through the newest issue of Fashionable Living; noting that the magazines were never accurate, and always out of date. Kayla had been in the Operating Room for over half an hour, and though she hardly knew the woman, she still was worried about her. She still couldn’t understand why she was even concerned with anything regarding Faith, but her heart told her quite differently. It was something she just had to blindly accept; something Willow was still trying to swallow. They had bad blood between them from the past, but Tara prayed Willow would get past it. Hopefully, this would be what they had prophesized. Lacey had become adept at seeing into the future, but she was still too connected to the physical world, to truly excel at the craft. Her work as a paramedic, usually kept her from looking towards the mystical explanations and definitions of the world, to accept the unlikely and yet realities of the arcane arts. The mind inhibited the incredible wonders of the universe around her; kept her in denial of the endless possibilities. She was their only child; Lacey was still the light that bound them together. Their love had made her, and their love kept them whole. Tossing away the magazine, Tara resumes her lonely vigil

            From across the hall, Lacey strides towards her; the seriousness of her expression tells Tara that at least Kayla wasn’t dead, but definitely not in the best of shape. Standing, Tara adjusts her quilted shawl over her shoulders, and meets Lacey halfway. With a pitiful expression, Tara’s eyes beg for any news. With a heavy sigh, Lacey begins.

            “She’s out of surgery, but still in intensive care. As I thought, her appendix had ruptured. It was probably due to her improper thawing, and the appendix went into cryogenic-necrosis. The digestive track is notorious for this, but never the appendix. Everyone is still amazed she’s even alive, and even more amazed that it was the appendix. This usually can only happen to fully functional organs, and thus raises more questions. Oh well, at least she’s out of the immediate danger. Now, they want to begin therapy ASAP on her legs, and see if they can coax the nerves and muscles to respond to each other. Where’s mom and Faith?”

            Tara looks down the hall, hoping to look up and see them coming, but only is disappointed. “I was told they’d tell her, but that’s all. They couldn’t tell me if she had been told or not, or when she might be told. They’re being very difficult. What do you think I should do? Call them one more time?” Tara almost sounds as if she’s begging for an answer, or a miracle.

            Lacey ponders for a moment, and decides to push her weight around. “ _I’LL_ call them this time. I won’t let them brush me off. I’ll be back soon.” Lacey hugs Tara, and rushes off to find a Fiber-op, and leaves Tara to sit, once again, all alone.

            Tara catches herself nodding off, only to awaken suddenly by a small clamor towards the elevators. Getting up she notices someone raising her voice and a meek orderly moving to investigate the ruckus. As she crosses the hall she notices Willow desperately trying to calm down Faith, as the orderly politely keeps asking Faith to lower her voice more. As Willow is torn between answering the orderly’s questions and calming down Faith, Tara approaches Faith and grasps her shoulders, pulling her attention from the obsessively polite orderly; the desperation in Faith’s voice touches Tara. Locking her eyes into Faith’s, Tara grabs her complete attention and is taken aback by Faith’s bloodshot eyes. Telling her slowly in a calm soothing tone, she mews: “Kayla is fine. Her appendix ruptured, but she is doing better, now. They will let you see her soon. Everything is okay now.”

            Faith wearily asks: “She’s okay?” Seeing Tara nodding and smiling modestly, finally drops her razor edge, and breathes slower. Tara gently guides Faith to the waiting area, while Willow reassures the staff that there won’t be any more commotion or noise from them. After another five minutes of wrestling a set time when Faith can go see Kayla from the nurses, the doctor on duty arrives with Lacey and gives his approval to five minute visits. As Tara updates Faith on Kayla’s condition, Willow tries to fill in Lacey with the events from the police station. The buzz continues long after Faith has been in to see Kayla, several times. She returns finally, grinning madly, and sinks down into the semi-comfortable couch, catching everyone’s attention. Finally speaking Faith whispers: “She’s awake!” Her huge grin, gives away her extreme enthusiasm, and glee. “She’s feels like crap, wants to be let out of the hospital, disgusted that I made a deal with the cops to train them, says that I wimped out by giving in, and said she loved me. She’s back to normal.”

Willow cautiously asks: “So you’re saying that she’s as difficult as you use to be?” Faith shakes her head and laughs. “Nope. She’s stubborn as hell; I’ve got nothing on her. Even back in my old days, she’d out do me in a heartbeat. That’s never changed. Now, she’s in worse shape with her legs, stuck in bed, on hospital food, and in pain. I feel sorry for the nurses, here. They’re going to earn their money tonight! They’ll be begging to get her out of here, by morning. Noon tops.”

Tara nods her head knowingly, while Willow tries to fathom the depths of stubbornness. The idea that anyone can be more pig-headed and stubborn than Faith, just doesn’t seem possible. As she tries to put the last few hours into perspective, their walk down memory lane is unexpectedly halted with the arrival of Officer Lenina Huxley. She adjusts her shirt as she notices everyone’s attention turns to her. Clearing her throat, she looks down at Faith stretched out in the couch. “Uhh…Miss Lehane…”

Faith immediately stops her before she can finish her sentence. She never used nor liked her last name, and had no intentions of starting now. With a warm smile she finishes “Just Faith. I only go by Faith, got it? Ask either of these two what I use to go by and they’ll tell you. It’s just Faith! Of course I was a bit of a wild one then too, so I guess that’s not very accurate any more. But I still only go by one name.”

Surprised by her frankness, Lenina starts over one more time. “Okay, Faith? If it’s okay with you, I’d like to run over some of the rules you’ll be required to follow, and what I expect from you. Plus, I would like to take you to your apartment, and get you settled in there. It’s only a few miles away, and you’ll see the public transportation systems have seriously improved since you were walking the streets.” Motioning towards the door, Faith nods reluctantly, and she asks Tara to let Kayla know where she went. “I know she’ll worry if I didn’t let her know where I took off to. Tell her I’ll stop by after I get settled in my new place. Okay?”

Tara smiles warmly and says, “Sure, dear. If you want I can stick around until you show back up?” Tara really liked the person Faith had become, something beautiful seems to taken root in there, and it really changed her. What exactly, she wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but she had her suspicions. Faith needed new friends, not old wounds reopened. Willow could try and hide her feelings, but Tara read her all too well.

Faith, taken back by Tara’s proposal, replies: “No, you don’t have to; she’s a big girl. I’m sure even she wouldn’t want to intrude on any of you. I just didn’t want her to worry, that’s all.”

Tara, in a reassuring tone: “It’s no bother, at all. Go ahead. I’ll go in and let her know what’s going on.”

After a several times going back and forth, Faith reluctantly agrees to leave the hospital, and get settled into her apartment with Lenina. The drive takes only a few minutes, and her apartment is only across the street from Willow and Tara’s. Getting off at the third floor, Lenina guides her up to the end of the hall, and opens the door. “These are reserved for new couples and police officers. Seeing that you’ll be working for us, we saw fit that you should be settled in here; and if Ms. Meadows also signs on, she would also have received these quarters. So in a way, it pretty much guaranteed your stay here, one way or the other. As soon as she’s released, she can move in here. We understand that she has special needs, but your expertise is gravely needed, as well. You wouldn’t happen to have discussed the matter regarding her teaching combat techniques with her, by chance?”

Chuckling half-heartedly, Faith opens all the doors, and investigates every nook and cranny. Talking over her shoulder, she casually replies: “These sheets all that you’ve got here… floral patterns? I never could stand that. Yah, I mentioned it to her, but you have to understand she just got out of surgery, and woke up. That’s not an easy thing to wake up to, if you know what I mean. Let her sleep on it tonight. She’ll be more clear-headed in a few days. If I know her, she’ll realize it’s not as bad of a deal as she thinks it is. But right now, she’s a little unresponsive to the judicial system, even though she denies it. So what do you think, did she kill those cops or not.” Turning to see Lenina’s expression, she tries to gage her reaction. She quickly closes with her waiting for a response. As she expected, Lenina can’t answer the question truthfully, as she pushes the boundaries of personal space to its limits. She had noticed most people kept a minimum of twelve to sixteen inches apart at all times; so when she came within mere inches of colliding with her, it had the expected result.

Nervously, Lenina backs up a few feet, and stutters out, “She was tried, convicted, and served time. Whether or not she was released too early is irrelevant. As long as she’s not a threat to anyone or herself, I see no point in confining her to some cold cell. She’s paid a terrible price, and if she’s willing to help people who need her, then society will be grateful. If not, that’s up to her.” Striding to the closet, she opens the doors to reveal several dozen sets of clothes on hangers. “I took the liberty of having your uniforms sent up here for you. There are six new uniforms, which were tailored to your measurements, from your files. If you send me Kayla’s tastes in clothing, I can see what I can scrounge up from acquisitions, or I can show you how. I’ll pick you up in the morning at seven-fifteen, and we’ll go to work. Right now we’re concentrating our efforts on locating the remaining escaped convicts from the Cryo-Prison. Most we’ve located or brought in already. Some we’re letting them go until we can muster a team together to bring them in. That’s where you come in. Your superior fighting techniques will prove invaluable. As we discovered with the infamous Simon Phoenix, his abilities to avoid capture brought our city to a stand still and nearly destroyed civilization, as we knew it. With you on our team, we have an extra ace in our hands.” 

  Noticing she’d struck a chord in Officer Huxley, she decides now is not the time to play a tune or two. She found it hard at times to resist the desire to dive in and attack such an opportune target. Fighting back that urge, she turns back to the closet, and inspects the crisp black uniforms of the SAPD. If they fit as tightly as Lenina’s, Kayla wouldn’t have a problem with seeing her in uniform. She always loved Faith’s leather pants, and crop-tops. Expecting that this society wasn’t ready for the return of that fashion trend, she sighs with exaggerated regret. “I guess these clothes will do, but Kayla can’t stand floral prints. If it has a flower on it, she’ll burn it. As for the sheets, they’ll do. Thanks. Thanks for the clothes and uniforms.”

Lenina, surprised by the sudden melting of Faith’s icy shell, relaxes a bit more. Shifting her stance, she decides to end the tour and be on her way. “Well, if you need anything,” holding out her card, “just call me and I’ll see what I can do. How’s that?”

Faith looks the room over one more time, checking for any last minute items she might have missed, and takes the card. “Sure thing, Officer Huxley. I’ll manage. One thing though, could you pick me up at the front of the hospital? I was planning to check up on Kayla right before I went to work. She’d really like that, you know?”

Opening the door, Lenina exits and turns. “Sure. I wouldn’t mind. Seven fifteen it is. Good night… Faith.” With a cordial smile and wave, Lenina Huxley departs, leaving Faith to her thoughts. Sighing with traces of strain and exhaustion, she wanders over into the bathroom. Running some bath water, she contemplates her questionable future. The future as the Slayer, her future as a part-time cop, and a future with Kayla; all these questions haunt her mind, as she sinks in the steaming rose perfumed sheets of the water.

 

Faith kicks the door of the small bar off its hinges; the wood and sheet metal menagerie falls to the floor making a hollow thud. Driven by an ominous sense of urgency, she searches the crowd of two or three dozen patrons for the source of the emergency. The patrons, not showing any concern or awareness or her entry, continue undisturbed to quietly chat and mingle amongst themselves. The bar, no larger than the Bronze, is very dimly lit and has the patrons fairly spread out. Passing the bartender near the front of the establishment, she gradually makes her way to the darker corners towards the back. Cutting through the center of the room, she runs into Lacey. As she starts to ask Lacey what she’s doing, she looks down to see that she’s dancing with a wheel chair. Confusion washes over her, only to be stopped when she sees Kayla in the arms of a small wiry gentleman. Surprised to see the two waltzing, she decides to investigate the matter further. Leaving Lacey behind to finish her two-step with the wheel chair, Faith pushes numerous patrons aside as they block her attempts to get to the waltzing pair. Running into a couple intent on blocking her, Faith rips the pair apart, flinging them out of each other’s grasp. With her path cleared, she sees the tall fellow passionately nuzzling her neck; Kayla, resting her head against his shoulder, seems all too content for his loving embrace. As Faith’s rage surges, she soon realizes that Kayla is being held several feet off the ground; her legs hang and swing uselessly in the air. Faith charges to reach them only to have additional couples impede her progress once again. With tears of rage and pain, she shoves the people left and right, tearing lovers out of each other’s arms to reach Kayla. Tearing through the last pair, she finds the dance floor emptied. Desperately searching for any sign of Kayla, she eyes her sitting by herself in a darkened corner, mournfully slouched on the bench, with her hands resting in her lap. With her heart crashing endlessly in her chest, she races to her side and kneels next to her. She tries to speak, but nothing comes from her lips, so she gingerly scoops Kayla’s chalky hands into hers; the fingers are like slender icicles, which could almost break if she were to let go. Panic sets in as she uses her other hand to lift Kayla’s face up to look into her emerald eyes. Only when she stares into the empty glare, does a dreadful sense of knowing fully engross her. The once brilliantly virile green pools bear the resemblance of a murky lifeless pond. Looking down her pale cheeks, she sees two slow lines of blood trail down her throat. Turning Kayla’s head, she clearly eyes the distinctive pair of puncture marks on her neck.

Screaming in agony, Faith splashes out of the tub, sending water in all directions. Standing in the middle of the bathroom, the cold air reminds her that she’s awake, wet, and naked. Shaking off the remnants of her nightmare, she towels herself off. Changing into a white crew neck blouse and black pants, she looks at herself in the mirror. Telling herself out loud: “It was only a dream.” She inspects her attire, and says finally: “I’m going to have to go shopping soon.”

 

****

# August 8, 2032

**San Angeles (06:30am)**

 

  Striding down the corridors of the hospital, Faith whisks through the darkened halls preceded by the clop of her heavy black boots. The SAPD uniform gave her the desired effect, which her old leather pants and crop tops use to. At six-thirty in the morning, there was little to no activity in the wards. When she left Kayla last night, she was already wreaking havoc on the young nurses with her atrocious bed manners. She never liked having to be cared for or looked after; so with her bed ridden, she was simply awful. Faith had warned her to take it easy, but she only half-heartedly promised. As she rounds the corner to Kayla’s room, she notices the unusually quiet demeanor of its occupant. Sticking her head through the doorway, she sees Kayla, wide awake staring out the window. Looking at her more closely, she sees she’s really pouting and fuming about something. Trying not to laugh, Faith suppresses her smile, and gingerly raps against the frame, causing Kayla to whip her head towards her. Instantly the frown flips over to relief upon seeing Faith and beckons her to her side. “Th… thank God you’re here!” Motioning her to embrace her, she shifts to look over her shoulder and out the door. “Y-y-y-you’re here to r-r-r…rescue me, r-r-right!” Faith tries not to laugh in her face, but she can’t tell whether she’s serious or not. Deciding to side with caution, she treats Kayla as if she’s serious. Clearing her throat, she fights off her grin and says: “No, Kay. I said I was coming here to see you before I went to work. Remember last night?”

            Kayla shakes her head, and whispers, “Damn, d-do I r-r-remember last night. The w-w-w-worst night of my life… o-o-okay maybe not the worst, b-b-but I’ve never f-felt so hu…miliated. Everything was all f-fine and d-dandy until the l-last nurse left for the n-night, and they found the G-G-Gestapo Queen from h-hell! Sh-sh-she threatened to tie me up, and t-torture me! I tell y-you this place is-s-s evil!” Faith fights to maintain an even disposition, during the retelling of Kayla’s night. “And you, of course you did nothing to instigate this, huh?” Looking around the room, she notices the nurse call buzzer has been torn from the wall, and the video remote is on the table across the room. Faith sits on the edge on the bed caressing Kayla’s warm skin, the remnants of her nightmare yesterday, still crawling around in her head. Picking up Kayla’s right hand she works and massages it with her fingers, the fear of feeling the icy appendages dissipates as she rubs and kneads Kayla’s small warm hands. As Kayla continues to plead her total innocence of Faith’s accusation, Faith just loses herself in the moment. The simple joy of having Kayla alive and at her side seems to make everything else seem obsolete and unimportant.

            After several minutes of ranting, Kayla suddenly stops when she notices Faith’s lack of interest in her plight. The pain in Faith’s eyes, cause Kayla to stop mid-sentence, and scoop Faith’s chin up and directly question her with a piercing gaze. “Is everything alright? Y-You okay?” Faith nods solemnly, and lets her breath slide out raggedly. “How soon till you can leave?” Kayla, not satisfied with Faith’s response, holds her gaze and replies: “The d-doctor w-w-was saying y-yesterday that he w-wanted t-to keep me here a w-week, b-but I hoped all m-my en--deavors last night m-might have c-cut my time here sh-shorter than-n that. With them bringing in H-H-Helga, the N-Nazi concentration camp o-operator, I don’t think th-that’ll happen any--time soon. Especially, when sh-she volunteered to stick around to help the d-d-dayshift, take c-care of me. Doctor Young said he’d be around l-l-l-later and would l-l-let me know how the lab results c-came out, and only then would h-h-he consider releasing me. If things s-s-suddenly change, Tara volunteered y-y-yesterday to come and get me, if y-you weren’t around. For someone who d-didn’t have m-many friends, you have a lot of s-strangers who really like you. I’m scared t-t-to even think of anyone that m-might still be looking for m-my ass. I p-p-pissed off a lot of p-people, by not getting the ch-ch-chair, ya-a-a know?”

            Faith once again reassures her companion by patting and rubbing her hand. She smiles and looks around. “I got a surprise for you. I found out something interesting last night, that will assure you that I won’t be going around at night searching for the bastards who messed you up.” Holding a crystal disk no larger than her hand, she places the item in Kayla’s lap. “I hope it’ll let you sleep a bit easier, knowing the people that did this to you (Faith gently rubs the area of Kayla’s arm with the worst scars) didn’t get away with what they did. You may have never testified, but apparently they did a full physical exam before you went into the mental ward and then right before you were frozen. They used your exam as direct evidence in the prosecution of two dozen state workers there. Some were even frozen, like you for their crimes. You see, you never entered general population in prison, and you were always in a private cell with twenty-four-seven monitoring because they feared you’d try to escape. They never deleted any of the video, so every minute of your stay in prison, was on video. So you never could have had the things done to you, except in the mental ward’s care. They had nearly two hundred sworn testimonies against them, and they did wake up some prisoners to testify; but with your medical records, they sealed the cases. You stopped them, and put them away for good. I suspect you had a major effect on this place, even while we were asleep. Stuff they did, to keep what happened to you from happening ever again, still haunts the city. Read it. You’ll get a kick out of it.”

            As Kayla motions for Faith to come closer, she freezes in mock terror, as a jingling of keys echoes from outside the door. Whispering lightly, Kayla says: “It’s Helga Himmler… the SS Storm trooper.” Faith breaks off their tender moment, to view the dreaded night nurse. From outside she hears: “Miss Meadows, I know you’re just acting like you have a visitor, because visitors are forbidden before eight AM. And if you did…” Through the door, strolls a chunky blonde woman, in her mid thirties, with a set of keys dangling from her pocket. Bearing a smile and a clipboard, she turns the corner only to nearly jump out of her shoes upon seeing Faith. “Oh! Excuse me officer, I wasn’t told you needed to speak with her. I can comeback…” Faith stops her. “No, its okay, I had to get going anyways.” The nurse resumes her moderate smile and comes to the other side of Kayla. “This little girl here is just adorable. She knows how to throw a temper tantrum, though. But, I’ve had four kids far worse than her, so she’s a push over.” Kayla is surprisingly quiet now, and Faith doesn’t overlook that either. Bending over to kiss her, she sucks on Kayla’s bottom lip for a few moments, and tears herself away, before she makes herself really late. Looking up to see if the nurse’s reaction, she’s impressed when the nurse doesn’t react negatively, to her blatant erotic kiss. Smiling she says to the nurse, “Take care of my little girl for me, she’s my everything.”

Straightening her posture, “Sure will dear. She’s in the best of care, with me around.” As Faith turns to leave she hears the nurse talking to Kayla. “Okay, honey. How did you sleep? Well, nurse Greta will is going to make everything so much better now…” The image of a woman her age talking cute to Kayla, is too hard to simply walk away from. Looking down at her watch, she sees that Lenina will be picking her up in five minutes, and her fun at Kayla’s expense will have to wait.

****

 

            Moving the heaviest boulders and sections of fallen wall had taken most of the night, even after constructing the numerous winches and frames, which his dead master spoke of. Felix’s hard work was rewarded in the early dawn hours when he uncovered the forgotten severed hand of his scorched master. In the fatal battle, his master had lost his hand; and in the witches’ rush to gather their dead and burn the demonic body, crucified to the wall, they had over looked that one item. That one item was all Felix needed to return his master from the dead, and regain his power on the Earth. Repeating that his master will rain his favors upon him and will forever praise blessing over him, Felix carefully wraps the severed limb in a scrap cloth and places it in an aged plastic grocery bag, for safekeeping. Deciding to lay down and rest for a few hours, Felix drifts into sleep, dreaming of the wealth and glory to befall him.   

****

 

            The Bull Pen was alive with activity, as Lenina and Faith cruised through the entrance. While Lenina tried to find John, Faith decided she’d try to find out what the clamor was all about. Coming up besides the Desk Sergeant, Faith leans over on the desk, startling him slightly. “Uh, Erwin isn’t it?” Smiling, she lets him collect himself and he begins almost immediately. “I… I’m sorry about yesterday. I was having a pretty bad day.” Faith laughs it off saying, “Don’t worry about it, all of us have one of those. So, why all the madness this morning? Did someone swipe the Chief’s jam off his bread, or what?”

            Erwin looks around the area to see whose in earshot, and continues. “This is no small matter, Deputy Faith. Through the night, we’ve had dozens of assaults, and two MDK’s just found at Citizen’s Park. It’s like it’s the wrath of Simon Phoenix, all over again. The city is in a fever pitch of chaos and confusion, and yet our brave new Mayor Friendly is somehow telling us to enhance our calm. I don’t think he realizes what the situation is.”

            Faith tries not to laugh in his face, and puts on her best serious expression. “I think we’ll survive; it’s not the end of the world. Who were the two people at the park?” As Erwin starts to fill her in, Detectives Spartan and Huxley swiftly approach, ending Faith’s only chance at getting to the bottom of the murders. Trailing behind them, a tall Hispanic guy adjusts his uniform and places his glow-rod into its holster. Looking to be no more than twenty-five, he looks Faith over with a cursory glance and he seems to appreciate what he sees. Faith, noting his approach, blatantly observes his amorous stare, and smiles back at him. Not showing any embarrassment having been caught red-handed staring, he smiles back proudly. Dismissing his meager advance, she stands a little more erect, and addresses John.

            “So, what’s the plan? When do we go check out the crime scene and the bodies?” Faith confidently asks.

            Smirking loudly, John shakes his head, chuckling, and counters, “Neither! You and officer Huxley here are going to check out a missing persons case, while Officer Hernandez and I check out the murder scene.”

            Lenina continues where John left off. “The Chief feels that their talents are best suited in that case, while we hone our talents in finding several people who have gone missing over night. It’s just as important.” Faith notices immediately Officer Hernandez’s restrained smirk. Swallowing her pride, Faith surrenders the fight, and heads out with Lenina.

From what the thing Faith used to know as television had said last night, Mayor Friendly had abolished a number of laws yesterday, and the first to go was Prohibition. It was now legal to drink beer… if anyone had any, that is. There were a number of breweries wanting to move in, but Taco Bell was trying to corner the market. The mayor even threatened to bring an anti-trust suit against them if they didn’t back off on the private ownership of some of the shops, which want to start selling alcohol and bar snacks. Also, the mayor repealed the Nutritional Protection Act of 2012; which now means that spicy and junk food are also legal. Faith smiles and thinks: “Cool! Hot wings and beer, here we come!”

Pulling her self out of last night’s history lesson, she turns to Lenina and asks: “So, Officer Huxley, I’ve got a question. Are you and Officer Spartan a thing, or what? You two dance around each other like you’re hot for each other, but you don’t seem to pass glances like normal people?”

            Lenina bites her lower lip, pondering how to describe their new relationship. “Well, we’re discovering our limitations, right now. The newness is beginning to wear off, and we’re not rushing into something, that could be larger than the two of us.” Faith lets a silence pass between them before replying. “So, what you’re saying is that things have cooled off between you two, and you’re having second thoughts about him, now?” Lenina grimaces and nods in agreement. Faith ponders carefully how she words her next question, she wants to help Kayla, but if she tries too hard, it might have the reverse effect. “So, have you tried to talk to Kayla yet, seeing that you’re her new parole officer?”

            Lenina had been dreading this; the idea that she had to monitor another person’s life and habits, didn’t seem right to her. “How does Kayla feel about it? You must have an idea how she’ll react. Is she going to be vindictive? Ill-tempered? Rude? Or is she just going to act oblivious to what I say? I don’t want to come down hard on her making demands and be overbearing; but I do have a job to do. If she’s not out to cause trouble or be a problem, I’ll have no reason to get in her business. As far as I’m concerned, she’s got enough to deal with, without having me bothering her every waking moment.”

            Faith laughs, and removes her sunglasses to rub the bridge of her nose. “Hey, that’s a great speech, but you don’t need to be giving it to me. Look, from the way I see it, you shouldn’t be taking advice from me! I’m one of your parolees, remember? But, if you’re asking me as the resident expert on what goes on in Kayla’s head, all I can tell you is that she’ll respect you more if you layout the ground rules fairly, right away, and she doesn’t have to guess what you might be hounding her for. She doesn’t like cops, she doesn’t like guys, and I suspect she doesn’t like anyone in an authority position. From what I found out in the history archives last night, looks like Kayla had made a real impact here. But because what happened to her in the state ward, I don’t know what effect that’s had with her, other than just her speech. I’m not joking that she didn’t have speech problems before she was jailed. She talked me to turn myself in with her. She had a lot more to lose than me, and yet she still came in with me. And now, she lost not only part of her speech, but now she can’t walk. So if she has little resentment, anger and hatred, you figure? From what the doctor said last night, she almost didn’t make it, if it weren’t for the two who went for her. I sent them out there just to check up on her, and they arrived in the nick of time, and brought her to the hospital.” Faith decides to hold back declaring how much she feels responsible for Kayla’s current condition. The truth gnaws at her guts, and she swallows harshly to keep the bile down. Sliding her glasses back on, she looks forward solemnly.

            Lenina brings the police cruiser to an address belonging to a quaint establishment, supposedly a bar. Faith wouldn’t refer to it being a bar, only able to sell pre-packaged tofu treats and natural fruit bars. The florescent red sign reads boisterously: _Taffy’s_. Hardly a place that could draw the lines of crowds she’s use to seeing, but of course this was hardly the city she’d be caught dead in, either. They both exit the car and head towards the front doors, the red and green glass sheets scream for attention. At night, the lights from inside would send red and green beams shooting into the street. Lenina leads the way to doors, only to find them locked. Faith immediately notices the surprise flash across her face, as she tries once more; the door once again denies entry. Faith leans into the glass, only to suddenly pull away as a tall shape appears to unlock the doors, from inside.

            The glass doors swing open and a tall blond gentleman, easily his mid thirties, stands before them. With his short hair tossed to the right, his features resemble more of a Swedish ski instructor, than the owner of a tacky fruit bar. Faith is surprised to discover that she’s not the only one drooling at his sharp edged features; the fashionable Asian robes, seemed firmly embedded into the city’s culture and atmosphere. Smoothly, he cracks a smile and greets Lenina in the typical circular hand motion, which Faith had become accustomed to seeing. “Hello Officer Huxley, I wasn’t expecting you so early. I had just got the call from your department thirty minutes ago, and I figured you wouldn’t be able to come by until the afternoon.”

Lenina sighs and says, “Well, have to get an early start around here. Early crow gets the meal.”

Faith snickers slightly, but the “Ski Instructor,” doesn’t try to hide his amusement. “That’s Early bird, gets the worm.” He seems really amused by Lenina’s mistake, and enjoys watching her act surprised by his correction. Lenina looks at him suspiciously, “You sure? I would have sworn I said it right.”

Faith notices his lack of European accent, thereby blowing away her Swedish lineage theory. Shaking her head she smiles and says: “Sorry girl, but he’s got one on yah. It’s Early Bird and worm.”

Lenina shrugs her shoulders and surrenders. “Huh. Learn something new every day. Well,” Looking at their instructor. “I take it you’re Mr. Eiglestraum, the owner?”

            He smiles widely and nods. “Yes, that would be me. I’m the one who called in the missing person report. She was a good friend of my sister and I, and she disappeared between ten-thirty and ten-fifty last night. I called her roommate at eleven o’clock and she hadn’t seen her. She lives only five minutes from here; and I went out looking for her until nearly three-thirty this morning, but I found no signs of her.”

            Lenina quickly jots down the info on a scratch pad, as he explains the previous night’s events, in lengthy detail. As Lenina listens to his story, Faith decides to wander to the back alley. Memories surge before her. Memories of a vampire patrol, gone badly. She knew in her heart she’d be patrolling once again, but she never imagined the anxiety she’d have to face. The after image of the Mayor’s assistant, stares back at from the shadows. His lifeless form is sprawled against the front of a garbage pile, shocked in disbelief of his sudden death. As Faith’s eyes lower from his terminal gaze, a bright colored object pulls her from the morbid mind-trip. Crouching down, she notices a pink high-heeled shoe, conspicuously hidden behind a dumpster’s rear wheel. Squinting, she gets up and heads towards the back of the metal bin. With a strong tug, the bin slides away from the wall, and a dingy manhole cover is revealed a foot from the unsoiled shoe. 

            “Mr. Eiglestraum! What kind of shoes was she wearing?” Faith calls out. She patiently waits for his reply, and maneuvers the trash bin completely to the opposite side of the alley’s walls.

            Moments later after she repositions the bin, Lenina and Mr. Eiglestraum turn the corner to investigate Faith’s handy work. Almost immediately he exclaims: “That’s hers! That’s the exact shoe she was wearing last night! They matched her outfit she was wearing, when she left.” Faith nods, not surprised by his revelation. Under her breath she mutters, “Some things never change.” To Lenina she asks, “That cover leads to the sewers?”

            Lenina grimaces and replies, “Not really. Eventually, yes. But it goes through the old buried portions of the city. They didn’t demolish everything; they just covered it up, and built directly on top of the original city. It was quicker and cheaper.”

            Faith looks at her in complete surprise, realizing that the underground denizens now had a city and a sewer to hide in. Shaking her head once more, she whispers to herself, “Now that’s fucked up.” Surprisingly, Mr. Eiglestraum gives her a humorous smile; while Lenina, who was just out of range, asks: “What was that?” Faith shakes her head and replies, “Nothing.”

            Lenina looks over the cover’s control panel, and shrugs her shoulders. “She couldn’t have gone through there, the panel indicates it’s broken. Would have taken Superman to pry the handles open. As she looks around for another cover, Faith moves to the panel and looks it over. The observant Mr. Eiglestraum stands back to watch Faith crouch before the cover. Showing great interest in Faith, he averts his attention only momentarily from her, to see where Officer Huxley had wandered. When he looks again, he’s shocked to see Faith grab a hold of the two handles and effortlessly pry them apart. A loud creak shudders through the air, and Faith grasps the second set. Just as effortlessly, Faith pries the handles, releasing a growling creek and groan. The cover easily pulls away from its mounts and she tosses it aside. Faith looks up to see the muscular Mr. Eiglestraum looking at her in amazement. Swallowing, she clears her throat. “Must have been made to look like it was broken, so that no one would have tried to use it.” Obviously not buying her purposely broken theory, he says: “Yah. Okay, broken.” Calling out, Faith says: “Hey, Lenina! Come over here.”  

            Lenina strolls back to where she left the two and is shocked to see the cover lying off to one side, free from its hole. Looking at the bewildered duo she looks at each of them for an explanation. Mr. Eiglestraum deflects her inquiry by saying, “Don’t look at me! She’s the one with the super-strength.” Faith laughs it off. “It was nothing. Probably was loose already. Well, are we going down, or just stand around staring at each other?”

            Lenina stops Faith, and tells her to wait while she returns to their car. Faith looks around the area for any more clues she might have missed, and Mr. Eiglestraum declares that he should return to his shop. When Lenina returns, she’s toting a pair of heavy-duty flashlights and another glow-rod. Tossing Faith the glow-rod, she checks hers and turns the flashlights on. As faith descends the ladder, she can’t help feeling the old flame burn inside of her; the thrill of the hunt squirms just under her skin.

 

****

 

            Pulling herself up, Kayla bites her tongue as Nurse Greta turns and leaves from her room. Ever since Faith had left, the diabolical nurse had ceremoniously poked and prodded her for countless tests. After an hour of the painful procedures, Nurse Greta finally left to prepare for her physical therapy. A bizarre feeling wraps itself around her, as she finds herself chillingly alone and distant from the world. As she tries to grab a hold of her runaway emotions, she sees her safe hospital bed replaced with a steel examination table. Lifting her head up, she looks down to her hands and sees them tightly bound to the table, as well as her feet. Uselessly struggling, she tries to pry her hands from the tight leather shackles, only to find them snuggly tightened to her wrists. Franticly pulling at her wrist and ankle restraints, she freezes in terror as the padded door swings wide open; the sneering orderly enters, followed by a female nurse, carrying a metal briefcase. In silent horror, she watches the pair takes positions on either side of her. The grizzled orderly, Danny, takes pleasure in roughly groping her; while the nurse, Amy Landers, casually sets the case down on a stool and removes numerous objects. Danny, frustrated with Kayla’s gown, unsheathes his Serrated Knife and sadistically shreds the gown; purposely leaving small nicks across her body. Enjoying Danny’s display of knife handling, she stops him as he leans onto Kayla to relieve his animal desires. Half angered by her restraint, he looks at the objects in her hands, and smiles menacingly. Kayla looks at Amy, and tries to suppress the fear rushing through her. The long metal cylinder, no more than an inch wide and 10 inches long, resembles a metal stake with rubber insulation on the last five inches. In the aft end of the pointed object, a long electrical wire is connected to the brief case; Danny takes the stake from her, and marvels at its construction.

            Kayla resumes her frantic struggle to free herself from her restraints, to the obvious enjoyment of the two. As she pulls and tugs at the shackles, Amy removes an electrical plug and connects it to the wall. Laughing at Kayla’s hapless struggle, Amy clips another wire from the case to the stainless steel table itself. Finally, Amy pulls out a remote from the case, and watches Kayla struggle for another minute. Danny, eager to start, looks to Amy and asks, “Where today?” In a dispassionate tone, Amy wanders up to Kayla’s arms and inspects the dozens of burn marks up and down each arm, and across her chest. “Well, these still need to heal more. We’ll just have to utilize her lower body, tonight; the doc feels her attitude still needs improving. Looking her crotch over, clinically, she continues. “This will do.” Turning around she turns on the power inside the case, causing it hum and the remote to illuminate. Opening a bottle of water, she pours it over Kayla’s lower body and backs away, leaving Danny to sodomize her with the metal spike. Tears well and pour from Kayla as Amy periodically hits a button, shooting electricity through her. She bucks and convulses uncontrollably, screaming and wailing. Hours pass, as she’s electrocuted and raped. Just when she’s liberated from the abuse with unconsciousness, she’s sadistically woken to finish the “Attitude Re-adjustment Therapy.”

              Tara had taken it upon herself to visit Faith’s friend Kayla. She felt that Kayla, an extreme loner, not unlike like Faith in the past, was difficult to understand. Very few people knew how relate to a wild child like Faith, but it was because she screamed lone wolf, which Tara understood as a sign of great need. The harder they pushed people away, meant to her, that they needed someone to get closer; a tough barrier to overcome, so that she didn’t have to face herself. Tara wasn’t easily discouraged, and Kayla was someone she felt needed as many friends as possible. Approaching Kayla’s room, she sees the nurse leave and stops at the nurse’s station to ask if visitors were allowed. After a few minutes, no one can locate the nurse in charge of Kayla, and decides its okay. Tara quietly enters, and sees Kayla resting. Figuring she needs her rest, Tara turns to leave, only to stop in her tracks as she hears Kayla crying. As she closes with the sleeping woman, she goes to the opposite side of the bed to look Kayla in the face. To her surprise, she realizes that Kayla is fast asleep, and under the spell of some terrible nightmare. Her heart wrenches as she strains to hear Kayla’s sleepy pleas of mercy, and traumatic spells of shaking. She leans over and scoops her into her arms and soothingly whispers words of comfort and safety. Kayla sobbed uncontrollably, long after she woke up in Tara’s maternal embrace.

****

 

When Faith reaches the bottom of the stairs, Lenina motions towards the corridor before them. Shooting the beams into the darkness, they slowly make their way towards an intersection. Looking left and right, they notice a set of tracks angling off to the right, then a second set going to the left, from the right. Fairly certain of their direction, Lenina leads Faith towards the right and a long silent march begins. With no branches off of the corridor, Faith thinks that these stretches of corridor beat the dank smelly stretches of sewers under Sunnydale, any day of the week. After fifteen minutes of walking, they finally notice a sudden change in their trek. The dusty mildew laden air suddenly bears a thick rotting meat smell. Lenina pulls a handkerchief out of her pocket, while Faith chooses to ignore it for now. They choose to continue forward, despite the increasing stench of death, yet find no evidence of the source of the smell. After half an hour had passed since they began this journey, enduring the mounting anxiety and sourly rotten air, they come to a shattered brick wall. Peering inside, the lights point out a number of doors and a centered hallway. The stench seems to emanate from inside the room, and tentatively, Faith opts to enter first. The breach in the wall barely lets Faith pass sideways through, no more than 20 inches at its widest. 

Extending her senses, she tries to feel around the area for anything unusual, but the stench is over-powering. As she glides the lamp across the room, the outline of numerous pipes and conduits line the walls. Faith concentrates on finding the source of the stench, and approaches the nearest door to her right. Scrutinizing the exterior, the door has numerous gouges; seemingly made by claws of some sort. She looks closer at the latch, a simple brace bar pins the door shut. As she reaches to touch the handle to test its movement, Lenina slips on a pile of trash just inside the breach. Lenina gulps, spasms, and rockets up from the floor in panic. Faith looks to see the reason for Lenina’s panicked rise, to see the pile of trash, was nothing of the sort. Bringing her light to bear, her head spins as she realizes the trash piles are large piles of broken and gnawed-over bones. Counting twenty-two piles, she starts putting the facts together and sees the handle of a door, slowly rise by itself and release the creatures within. Scurrying out of its cell, a tall furry creature rushes out towards the two officers. Its arms, almost too long for its body, aid in its approach. The razor sharp claws scrape and click against the cement floor, and it drools anticipating the meals before it. Immediately Faith scoops up a short length of pipe and hurls it at the fearsome man-beast, focusing its attention away from Lenina. Faith screams, “GET OUT LENINA! HURRY, NOW!” Lenina hesitates as the creature ignores her and rushes Faith. Just as it leaps to pin Faith, she sidesteps out of the way, resulting in it colliding into the wall behind her. It yelps in pain, and Faith removes her Glow-Rod and leaps onto him, bring the glow-rod across his forehead. It collapses immediately, and Faith starts to relax, but a noise behind her delays that thought. Three more cell doors are wide open and the demonic creatures snarl at her defiantly. Faith screams to Lenina once more. “GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!” Lenina doesn’t hesitate this time, and Faith is facing off against two of the beasts. The third leapt to grasp Lenina, but fortunately she was a bit quicker, and squeezed through moments before. As it flails and lashes out trying to grab a piece of her, it inadvertently wedges itself into the small gash of an opening. Hopelessly pinned, it now seals the opening preventing Faith’s escape.       

            As Lenina dives to safety, Faith meets her two opponents head on. The first creature leaps towards Faith, only to have a heavy boot smash across the side of its face, sending it rearing to a corner to recover. The second creature, hesitates long enough to see its companion scurry to a corner shaking off its facial wound, and tries to overwhelm Faith by trying to ram her. Faith hadn’t expected this tactic, and thus is dragged into the very section of wall she’d sent their very first creature. Her back screams in agony, and she feels a sharp pain and crack resonate through her. As the creature rips and tears at her shirt, she regains her senses, and thinks to use the Glow-Rod, only to find she’d dropped it. Switching her tactics, she concentrates a solid punch to the creature’s neck, causing it to stop momentarily. With it suddenly pausing, she retakes the initiative and presses on with a series of blows and kicks to his center of body. Each blow seems to keep the creature off centered and unbalanced, allowing her to plow in another blow, after the one before. After each hit, she registers the cracking a bone within its chest or body; it can no longer concentrate on attacking, as she keeps it thinking about the pain she’s delivering. Blood coats her hands and boots, as she pulverizes her opponent; while behind her, the cowering creature eyes the weapon she’d used on one of his kind. Carefully it reaches out and touches the club, prodding and gingerly probing the rod. As his courage increases, Faith pins the creature’s companion below her, and with a powerful twist, she snaps its neck. Looking towards her exit, she sees the hind end of a creature blocking the hole. It struggles uselessly against the walls restraining it, and Faith decides she should take matters into her own hands. Realizing that it was obviously trying to get at Lenina, Faith takes a step or two backwards, and grins evilly. Like a football kicker, she takes a few quick strides and plants her foot viciously between its legs.

Lenina had been trying to get a good hit on her pursuer, but its long arms with razor claws, kept her distant. Every time she’d lean forwards to strike him with her Glow-Rod, he’d resume his flailing arm attack, and only miss her by inches. This had gone on for nearly three minutes, until suddenly its demeanor drastically changed. Without warning, its lethal edge suddenly drained away; and it whined mournfully and dropped its arms defeated. Not waiting for it to resume its aggressive nature, Lenina seizes the moment and raps the Glow-Rod against its head. It passes out, thankful for the end of its pain. More confused than happy about her success, Lenina carefully approaches it and peers inside, to see Faith just on the other side of the tear in the wall. Quickly with one combined push and pull, the creature is pulled free of the opening, just as the final beast has mustered enough courage to grasp the edges of Faith’s lost Glow-Rod, and start handling it. As Faith turns to deal with the last one, she smells an unfamiliar stench above the rotting corpses around her, and she remembers her aching back. Not feeling too bad off, after having thought she broke a bone or something from being smashed into the wall, she shifts and moves, without any pain from her back. Slightly relieved that she hasn’t any broken bones, she turns to the wall she’d been rammed into. Above the snarling beast with her Glow-Rod in its hand, a natural gas line hisses obscenely. Catapulting herself back through the hole, she barely has time to grab Lenina and throw her towards the exit before the creature figures out how to toggle the Glow-Rod. The resulting explosion blasts the pair like rag dolls down the long empty corridor.

 

**August 8, 2032**

**San Angeles, (6:20pm)**

 

Faith is the first to crawl out a manhole cover, closer than where they’d entered. Looking around, she sees a flurry of emergency vehicles buzz by, narrowly missing her. A minute passes before she climbs out, and assists Lenina in her ascent. The two, covered in dirt and grime from head to toe, look around half-dazed at the spectacle erupting a few hundred yards away. Shoving the cover back into place, they make their way towards the destination of the all the fire trucks. After five minutes, they arrive at the scene of a raging fire engulfing three buildings, too close to where the basement the creatures were caged. As they exchange glances, two of the buildings collapse upon themselves, send ashes and smoke in all directions. They are immediately stopped by a paramedic team and ushered into an ambulance. Lenina seems worse off, to Faith, and she insists they look at her first. Lacey arrives and tells the paramedic to look at Lenina, while she looks at Faith. Gingerly opening the front of Faith’s shirt, she gasps at the dozens of slashes and tears across her neck and chest from the creatures. Pouring out the contents of a bottle into a plastic dish with gauss pads, she gently pats the bleeding areas with the soaked cloth. In no time, the areas reveal most of the wounds had sealed, and in advanced stages of healing. Lacey leans over and whispers to Faith, “I never thought they were serious. You really are a slayer; super-strength and healing Slayer!”

Their brief interlude is cancelled, as Chief Earle and Captain Lamb push themselves into door of the ambulance. His face, red as the blazing sun, shines towards the two officers and his mouth opens to yell in their general direction. Cutting him off, Lenina starts to explain the events of the last twenty minutes, but seems to get flustered at his constant ranting and interdictions with her story. Finally Faith, weary from her battle and exhausted from listening to the pointless yelling, stands up, nudges Lacey aside, and proceeds directly towards the chief. Fear creeps into him as he watches the ex cryo-con Faith, heading right towards him. He strategically tries backpedaling his way out of the ambulance, and he fears that he may have pushed the ex-con too far. Stumbling out of the ambulance, He looks up to see Faith land mere inches from his face and lean towards him. “You weren’t there! You didn’t see what these things could do! They ruined my shirt, they smelled bad, they obviously killed a lot of people before us, and someone was feeding them those people! So lay off of us! We’re lucky to be alive.”

Stammering, he blurts out, “But the devastation…?” Faith doesn’t relent, and shouts at him louder. “You can blame me if you want, it did use my Glow-stick to blow the place up! Just blame me, leave Lenina out of it! She couldn’t have slowed it down, any better than I did, to say the least kill them.” Captain Zachary Lamb comes up to Faith and the Chief, and intercedes. “Chief, there wasn’t anyone in the buildings at the time. They were all automated facilities, and the most that would have been here, if at all would have been five. They were the Sixth District’s Power and FuelDistributionCenter. The Utility Department will have its systems rerouted in fifteen minutes, and this area will be isolated. If what she says is true, the only gas that could have been in there would have been residual from the great quake.” Looking at Faith, he finishes. “We have our gas plants on the outer areas of town, so incase we have another quake, we won’t have to worry about them rupturing and dealing with a fire like this in the middle of the city. Someone might have had a storage tank down there, and well, private ownership wasn’t illegal back then.”

The chief backs up slowly, hoping Faith won’t follow him, and sighs loudly. “And I thought I was smart sending Detective Spartan, the Demolition Man himself, out of city limits to investigate the murders, and all the time I had the… the… Demolition Woman in my very midst, all along.” Frustrated, he turns to leave. Zachary, unable to hide his amusement any longer, cracks a wide smile at Faith and reaches out to shake her hand. He whispers to her: “Good work. I’ll expect your verbal report on my desk before the end of the day, and the written one by noon tomorrow. Got it you two?” Faith, still hot under the color with the chief, slowly lowers her icy guard and nods in agreement. The chief quickly wanders off with Zachary a few steps behind him. 

Breathing a sigh of relief, Faith lets her be taken back to the ambulance, and looked over a little closer by the paramedics. Agreeing to be taken to the hospital, the pair endures a few more hours of examinations, and anti-biotic shots. When Lenina is released, she tells Faith to call her, and she’ll come and get her. Faith, not in much of a hurry to head back to see the chief, takes a detour to see Kayla. When she arrives to her room, she finds an empty bed instead. It takes fifteen minutes to find the head nurse, who simply says she checked out, and leaves Faith bewildered in the hallway, alone. 


	2. Part 2

## Part 2

**August 8, 2032**

**San Angeles, (10:20pm)**

 

After rushing to Willow’s apartment, Faith shoves her way in when Tara opens the door. Hooking Faith’s arm as she passes, she swings her back towards her, catching her completely off guard. “Whoa! Not so fast, speedy.”

Faith steps back a bit, and unhooks her arm. Still on edge from her escape from the flaming sewers, she buzzes with anticipation and worry. Confused, she asks, “What?” Tara motions towards the door, and leads Faith out into the hallway of the building. Turning in protest, Faith closes on Tara; her posture demands answers immediately. Tara, fighting back her anger, raises an emerald-colored data crystal before Faith’s face. “When were you planning to tell any of us about this, or about what happened to her in that hospital?”

Faith, not putting much concern into withholding the information on the crystal, dismisses the importance of the information it contains. “What about it? She doesn’t want to talk about it, or want to get revenge. That’s the way she is.” Tara can hardly contain her disbelief and anger. “And you didn’t think about how she might be hurting! Don’t you realize what they did to her in there?”

Shifting her stance, Faith rests her hands on her hips as she fights from ripping Tara’s head clean off. As her anger detonates, she lashes out with: “How do you think I feel? There’s no one for me beat the living crap out of! No one for me to make pay for what they did to her! And even worse, she doesn’t want me to; even if I could find any of those bastards, she’s made me promise that I won’t.” Tara looks around at the obvious looks and stares of her neighbors opening up their doors to investigate the low roar in the corridor. After quickly staring down several of her nosey neighbors, she sighs loudly and collects herself. And continues in a slightly calmer tone.

“Listen Faith, I looked her charts over from last night. She didn’t sleep at all! She was too scared to fall asleep. From what I can tell, her tormentors where med-techs, or were dressed as such. She’s obviously terrified of anyone wearing a lab coat, or the idea of any medical person even touching her; to say the least staying in a hospital. I had to check her out immediately, and that wasn’t an easy task in itself. She’s lucky I still have a lot of friends in the shop to be able to force her release, even against the Chief Surgeon’s recommendations. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to tell you, but I couldn’t wait… she couldn’t wait! I just got her asleep, and she is past exhaustion. She’s a scared and frightened girl, Faith. Like it or not, she’s not the strong, invincible woman you use to know. She has been broken. Broken in a way, I’ve only read about in books and old texts. I’m no psychologist, but I do recognize the signs. I can’t treat her like she needs to, but I convinced my boss, Daren, to send for a specialist. She’ll be here in a few weeks, but I’ll start her psychological rehab. The physical stuff, she’ll need your help, as will I. I’m sorry that I vented at you, but she needs to rest now.” Noticing the aromatic sewer fumes emanating from Faith, she wrinkles her nose and wipes her brow; she’s surprised to find her forehead covered in small beads of sweat. “So, why don’t you go clean up and change. Afterwards, I’m sure she’d love to have a visit from you. How about it?”

Faith, physically and emotionally drained from the ordeal of the last couple of hours, looks to both ends of the hallway for an answer to her dilemma. Beyond frustrated and too tired to fight with Tara anymore, she raises her arms and surrenders to Tara’s insatiable will. “Fine!” Faith locks eyes with an older nosey neighbor, who immediately ducks back into the safety of his domicile. Faith returns her burning gaze onto the defiant Tara, who’s not disturbed by it, at all. “Fine, I’ll go and change.” Fuming, Faith turns and storms down towards the elevator. She suddenly stops and spins around to say some more words, but just growls and turns back towards the elevators. After the doors close, Tara mutters to the empty hall: “And I thought Lacey was bad about being told no.” Shaking her head, she returns to her apartment.

****

 

             Faith bursts through the swinging doors of the small bar, sending them tumbling across the glossy floor. Their flimsy construction, more decoration than security, can’t survive Faith’s entrance. As green and red plastic scatters before her, Faith scans the crowds for any signs of Kayla. Dozens of patrons scoot and shuffle atop the dance floor, but no one resembling Kayla is seen.  Letting her eyes adjust, she starts searching amongst the numerous booths lining the walls and cuts through the center of the dance floor, oblivious to the lifeless expressions the couples wear. An overwhelming sense of urgency pulls her towards the rear of the bar, only to suddenly stop at the back of the bar. As she looks to her right, scanning the sparsely occupied booths, a quick movement from her left draws her full attention. Swinging her head towards the emergency exit, the steel door swings closed. As she propels towards the exit, she slides to an abrupt halt as she sees the silvery locks of Kayla hunched over on the booth’s table. Abandoning the pursuit, she rushes to Kayla’s side, and gently lifts her head from the table; the arctic-like feel of her chin, sends a gut retching bolt of anger through her. Just as she’s able to fathom her loss, the characteristic pool of blood on the tabletop sends her into a wild rage, after the killer. Before she can grab the reigns on her emotions, she’s out the exit and hurtling across various recycling bins and sealed trash dumpsters.

Tearing through the maze of boxes and containers in the alley, she sees her killer patiently awaiting her approach with his hands tucked neatly inside each of his long shirtsleeves. As she reels back to take off his head in one decisive blow, she hardly notices the shadowy figure bring a lead pipe across the back of her head. Dazed and confused, she desperately struggles to remain conscious and spins around to face her new opponent. Faith is torn from her sleep as she stares into the cold dead eyes of vampire Kayla.  

 

**August 25, 2032**

**San Angeles, (4:10am)**

 

Faith jumps upright in bed, her mouth agape preparing to scream out in horror; the bed sheet is thrown clear. Looking around her room, she quickly finds Kayla, slowly waking because of Faith’s violent nightmare. Faith immediately clutches the weary Kayla, who can only return the hug; and she finds Faith evasive of all questions regarding her dream. Looking at the clock, they both decide it’s too late to try and go back to sleep, and start their morning a little early. After carrying Kayla into the bath, Faith shares the bath with her and they spend their time going over their day's schedules. Faith goes over their never-ending search for the elusive Felix. He’d been reportedly seen on the south and eastern perimeters of the city, plus has been blamed for a number of murders and thefts. The thefts were mostly food and various supplies; but he recently raped and murdered a woman, as she visited an outer cemetery with her family. “All solitary traffic, outside the city, is restricted without an armed escort. I’ve done a couple of escorts myself, but I never see anyone. I have seen a few nasty looking animals, but they seem to know I mean business, and back off. Must be a slayer thing.” Faith grins in a mockingly evil manner to Kayla. Kayla snickers at her and covers her face, trying to look away and cover her eyes from the comedic Faith. As Faith pulls down Kayla’s hands, she winds up swallowing a wave of water, splashed into her face by Kayla in retaliation. Coughing and sputtering out water from her lungs, Faith returns the favor until they both realize how late it was getting to be. By six-thirty, Faith finishes helping Kayla get dressed, and throws on her police issue over-shirt, as they head out the door. Arriving at Tara’s apartment, Faith drops off Kayla and a gym bag, before Lenina arrives to pick her up for work. 

Faith, wearing what one could only call a strained grin, plops down in the fake leather seats of the police cruiser, beside Lenina. Silently, the vehicle pulls away with its two occupants silently mulling over the upcoming day’s schedule. Lenina finally can take no more of Faith’s silence, and erupts with a modest attempt at conversation. “So… wasn’t Kayla going to start her class today? I was hoping to try out for it.” Faith blinks rapidly, coming out of induced catatonia to reply to her partner. “Kayla had asked for a class of no less than thirty, and she’d weed out the bad apples herself.” Unbeknownst to everyone but Faith and Chief Earle, Kayla only said she’d teach competent pupils. If she thought anyone or everyone who applied weren’t, she was under no obligation to teach them.” With that in mind, she carefully treads forward. “Yah… she’ll be coming by at two-thirty, and I’ll help her setup. You know she’s calling the shots on this. It’s her way or the highway. Got it?”

Lenina shakes her head in agreement. “Oh yah, I don’t have a problem with that. Actually I think it’s great that she’s doing it, and that you’re helping her. Considering everything, I’m impressed that she’s up to even that.” She hesitates a bit before continuing, very unsure of the bridge she’s stepping onto. “I… I heard about Kayla, too.” Faith turns to Lenina; her expression could melt a glacier. Lenina, all too aware of Faith’s gaze, continues to stare straight ahead on the road and continues. “I talked to her doctor who told me about her hibernation sickness. I’m sorry she lost all feeling in her legs; really, I am. How’s she taking it?”

Faith tries to dump the surge of anger and returns her eyes to the road, as well, before replying. “She’s taking it well considering her position. She’s not talking about it, one bit. But, she isn’t holding a grudge, which is better than I could ever do. She’s still going through with teaching karate, and if I were her, that would be the farthest thing in my mind. No offense.” Lenina, not as offended as some might be, brushes off the comment and continues forward with the conversation. “It’s still three o’clock, right? I’m one of the lucky few being given the chance to learn. Officer Spartan declined because he felt it was pointless to learn at his age and prior training. I think he was Special Forces, a long time ago. Nonetheless, he showed no interest in the class. I, on the other hand, never had the desire or need to learn that stuff. Well, up until a few weeks ago that is, I never thought those Jackie Chan moves would ever be used.”

Faith watches as Lenina brings their cruiser to the parking lot of the newly remodeled Police Department. The glass “SAPD” letters had just been unveiled yesterday, and it helped to show the process of reconstruction was making head way in the city. The construction of the city’s jail was just having the concrete base poured, a relief to many officers standing guard night and day of their remaining twenty prisoners. Most were rehabilitated, but some just won’t change their ways. The police force nearly doubled the number of officers over night, after the cryo-prison burned up. Most were people who acted as the police forces in the underground city, and the rest were just people who wanted to make a difference. Public housing projects were started the next day, the same high standards as everyone else in the city. As they leave the car and walk towards the entrance, Faith resumes the conversation.

“You know this is only a tryout? She’s only going to pick out those who are able and willing to undertake training. It’s fairly rigorous; even I had a hard time keeping up with her. But I don’t think she’ll be able to teach you all what she taught me. I picked up three styles thanks to her, and it wasn’t easy. She’s all lovey-dovey when we aren’t practicing, but get her into training mode, and watch out! I once didn’t say a kind word to her for two days, because of it. I got over it, but I learned that’s how serious she takes teaching. She doesn’t fool around or cut corners with that. She says: ‘the arts require utter devotion to discipline and the matter at hand. Neglect one, and lesson is spoiled.’ What ever that means,” shaking her head. “As long as you don’t blow her off, and you take the lessons serious and all, she’ll teach yah. She’s worried that she won’t have enough students capable of completing the training. She doesn’t want anyone killed trying to learn this stuff.”

Lenina nods her head knowingly as they pass through the Hall of Fallen Heroes. Numerous small oil paintings line the walls of the huge gallery. Faith was surprised to see actual paintings of officers killed in the line of duty, rather than photos. Each plaque, below the paintings, gave the officer’s name, rank, and details of his passing. She actually liked walking through there; it was usually deserted, and it helped her relax. She had come to notice how the restless side of the slayer, had somehow been satiated. That old huntress seemed to be more content, nowadays. Every so often, she’d catch herself comparing the old and new Faith, and couldn’t figure out where the old self had gone. It made no sense to her, and she came to this hall in hopes of finding some answers from other warriors, before her.

As they leave the room, Lenina chimes in. “Kayla hardly seems to be the person her police records talk about. Even when I talk to her, she still doesn’t act like a Murder/Death/Killer. Not that I’ve talked to that many, but all those I had, I sensed a general feeling about them. You could feel they were bad, in some way. You know? Kayla, on the other hand, never went through rehabilitation or retraining before she was revived; and yet I still don’t get even the faintest bad sensation about her. Do you notice anything different about her, compared to before she was interned?”

The pair rounds the corner towards the Bull Pen, and Faith stops Lenina. Pulling her closer, she waits for another officer to pass them and whispers: “Look, Kayla has been through a lot since I last saw her. She’s been frozen, tortured, molested, electrocuted, and God knows what else. So if you can go through all that unscathed, then we can talk about it. I know I couldn’t. So if she’s a little cold or distant sometimes, I think I can understand why. Yes! She’s not the same, active, on the go, chick I used to know; but it’s a little obvious as to why. Huh? And I think it would be best if you start looking at her in a better light. She’s volunteered to teach the department self-defense. She didn’t have to, but she did. She’s also fairly fucked up, physically, and yet she’s going to give it her all. She’s committed herself to this, and I think you all should show her some respect; she did give her word. So what she’s an ex-con. She’s still going to be the teacher, and if you all don’t give her the respect she deserves, you’ll never learn jack!” Faith tears herself away, and burns towards the entrance of the Bull Pen; while Lenina stumbles along in her wake, wiping the sweat from her brow.

            Swinging open the doors of the entrance, she rudely shoves one fully open. Slamming the door into the wall, Faith strides towards her temporary desk and growls for it to grant her access without sitting down Set up for her and a dozen other temps, she logs on and stands waiting for it to recognize her voice. Looking over the desktop, she scans for any notes or messages, which might be for her. Realizing that thanks to modern technology, there wouldn't be any scrap papers lying around, she taps the console of the computer, and demands to know if she has any new messages.  Lenina enters, watches Faith blow off her steam at the computer, non-physically, and heads to her office. Doing the same ritual as Faith, Lenina spends the next fifteen minutes checking and responding to dozens of emails regarding situations in her AOR, Area Of Responsibility, as Detective Spartan had labeled them. Under his advice the growing city needed officers to take first hand control of specific parts of the city, and patrol them. 'Get out and be seen.' John had put it; mostly to put confidence in the people of the city that the police were out and in public, not hiding in their protective shelters. This was scoffed at, initially; but after a few weeks, complete order was established and people seemed to be acting normal, for once. She realized this when she checked her messages: before she'd have hundreds of concerned and frightened people calling and emailing her. Now, she had only twenty to go through. Everything else was simple bureaucracy. After complying with set protocols, her computer work was finished in no time, allowing her to head out and patrol the streets with Faith.

            Lenina had realized Faith had been spending a lot of time walking around the city at night. She had thought that taking care of Kayla was a lot more work at first; but, as the weeks passed, it seemed to only stay the same. With an established ritual of 4 cups of coffee, Faith regularly came in with bags under her eyes. But she'd heard from the night shift that she'd been seen walking the darkest parts of the city by herself, and this wasn't anything new to them. When unusual fights or disturbances erupted, Faith wasn’t far away or breaking up the crowds. She'd wanted to confront her, but it never seemed the right time or place. Even in the car this morning, her plan was to gently slide into a discussion regarding last night’s attempted assault of a young couple at the Rimmaldi Social Club. Officers had received a report of screams and a struggle in the rear of the club. Instead, when the officers arrived, the suspects had disappeared; and though shaken, the couple was fine. The first person on the scene was Faith in plain clothes, and the couple later reported that Faith had arrived in the nick of time to scare off the criminals. They couldn't remember where the suspects had gone or in what direction, but they were extremely grateful of Faith's arrival.

            This turned out to be nothing new for night shift, but as usual, was never making its way to the morning reports. As she investigated further, this was hardly an odd occurrence. Almost every couple of nights, officers would respond to a disturbance of some sort, and Faith's name would be mentioned. Oddly enough, her name would be exempt from the official report filed by the officers. Even though none of it made sense, she knew that somehow that the creatures they'd fought a month ago, the increase in attempted assaults, and Faith's late night patrols were all connected. How, she had no idea. In her heart, she knew Faith wasn't doing them, but a direct connection was obvious. But as luck would have it, instead she wound up discussing Kayla, which led to more awkward moments. Reeling herself back out of la-la land, she clears her eyes and looks around for Faith. During her brief analysis, she never noticed Faith leave. After closing down her terminal, she gathers her stuff and strides out to find Faith.

            Faith had once again let her temper get the best of her. She never intended to get angry or let others make her angry. But as one question led to another, Faith couldn't help to vent at Lenina. She was almost too nice and perfect. It made her a little sick, at times, to see someone really honest and forthright and unscathed by evil. It reminded her how she used to feel about Willow, but now Willow seemed a little less pure and unscathed. And with that, she could calm herself down and approach her anger in a more logical manner. She had no idea where she was getting this stuff, her rehabilitation she assumed; but it actually worked. Usually. Sometimes it took her longer, and sometimes just a deep breath dispelled it totally. That's why she preferred to sit in the Hall of Heroes, no one to bother her. As the remains of her anger bleed away, she discovers she's not alone in the solemn hall.

            Officer Romero Hernandez eases around the corner and greets Faith with a warm smile. "Hey-yah! Feeling better now?"

            Faith gingerly frowns and takes a final deep breath to ward off any more anger from sneaking up on her. "Kinda. I have a problem with my anger; it likes taking control sometimes. And sometimes I don't mind. Today wasn't one of those days. So, did Officer Huxley send you out here to see if the coast was clear?"

            Chuckling lightly, he moves closer and puts on a warmer smile, hoping to thaw the ice around her. "No, I thought I'd take a swim and see if the sharks were out in force today." He's rewarded with a meager smile from Faith, who catches the humor in his words.

            Faith straightens up, and replies: "Well, don't swim too far out, there's too many other things out there to worry about than sharks." Faith adjusts her belt, and turns to leave, only to have Officer Hernandez step in front of her. He slides closer to her and tries to chisel at her icy shell once more. "Hey. There's going to be an after work party Friday at Taffy's; Dominique wants to throw the department a thank you party. All drinks half-priced! There are some local bands going to be playing as well. You in? Everyone is going to be there, and it wouldn't hurt for you to hang out for a couple of hours."

            Faith politely tries to back out and looks away for a moment. "I wish I could, but I might have prior obligations. I have to take care of Kayla. You see, she can't walk..."

            Romero can see where it’s heading, and cuts her off. "Well, after you get her tucked into bed, come on down. It should last most of the night, and most of us don't have to work the next day. You're off right?" Faith tries to explain further but only gets out: "Well, yah. But..."

            Officer Hernandez quickly seizes the opportunity. "Then it's settled! We'll see you Friday night around eight or nine. Right?"

            Faith lets a reluctant smile sneak out, and she gives into the handsome demanding officer. “I’ll try, but I won’t promise anything. Okay?” She shakes her head to how quickly she gave in to his cute technique. And yet something gnawed in her stomach; something she couldn’t put her finger on. Trying to brush aside the uneasiness, she takes a reluctant breath and pulls away from him, seeing Lenina approaching. She doesn’t bother to turn to catch him admiring her departure, so intently.

****

            Tossing a rolled scroll into a bin marked ‘kindling’ along with many other useless scrolls, Felix Marlow growls in frustration. Even with his minions scouring the deserted city of Sunnydale night and day, there weren’t any signs or remnants of the infamous Alticia scrolls. Scratching at his thickening skin, he cares little that his exterior is becoming redder as the days pass. Accepting that his devotion to his master was something he couldn’t turn back on, this condition was proof that he followed and obeyed his mater unconditionally. As he renews his frustration with a foul set of curses, a measly servant hesitantly approaches. Half-marching and shuffling, the small figure scratches at the many fleas and lice on his head and body. Content for the moment, he finishes off with raking his worn fingernails across his layers of wrinkled skin on his face. Though not obese in any way, his face seems to have over-lapping layers of hairy flesh. As he stops in the better light near Felix’s work desk, he lowers the hood on his cloak and releases the tussled mat of gray-brown hair, hidden underneath. Resembling thick fur than hair, the small, humbled minion bows his head to Felix. “My master, my brethren have just reported in. No scrolls.” He pauses as the anger begins to boil out of Felix’s ears and face. Fearing for his life he quickly continues. “But, I think we have a clue… A VERY GOOD clue… to where they are now. It appears a coven of witches, with the aid of a demon, hid them in their library until the Great One’s Defeat. Afterwards, they relocated to the new city, taking the majority of the scrolls and books. We believe they must have been trying to discover the secrets of the scrolls. We hardly believe that they would have had the foresight to have seen our use or need of them. At least that’s the conclusion we’ve come to.”

With some of his initial anger bled off, he stands up straighter and stares menacingly down into his peon’s cold gray eyes. “And you do have a NAME, don’t you? Why else would you have dared come before me, with this information!” The small figure barely has enough wetness in his mouth to swallow, with Felix towering over him. “Uhhhhh… no. BUT I do know the demon’s name! It was Anyanka! She had helped the coven for many years, and it’s believed she even assembled it to protect the powerful library she’d accumulated. She defected to the humans and even was a known friend of the last slayer who killed the Great One.” Panting, his nerves and the urgency to blurt out as much as he could before his master would strike him down, fueled the small fellow to stand ready to receive either the favor or displeasure of his menacing employer. All too aware that if his eyes even wavered from Felix, it would be interpreted as distrust or lack of fortitude on his part. That would mean immediate death, if he were lucky; or a thousand deaths in one lifetime, if he were not so lucky. He waits intently as Felix reaches into his coat and handles an object within. An eternity passes as he slowly removes his hand, bestowing a long wrapped cigar. Tearing off the wrapper and the tip of the cigar, he presents it to the small figure, and flips open his lighter; his face contorts to a twisted smile. “Take it Gowen, you disserve it.” After Gowen gets it lit and takes several long puffs, Felix continues. “Now pull up a seat and tell me more. What do you know about this coven?” The candle lit room fills with an ominous foreboding presence and expensive cigar smoke rolls through the room like a heavy fog.

  
****

            Rushing back to the station, Lenina and Faith park their cruiser, and jog into the women’s locker room at two-fifty pm. With only ten minutes to spare, they change into their workout clothes and sprint to the gymnasium. Bursting through the entrance, they stampede into the gym as all eyes turn towards them. The two-dozen, blissfully quiet students stand in various states of stretching and relaxation, as Faith and Lenina stop abruptly. Lenina feels an uneasy silence grab a hold of her, and Faith looks into Kayla’s eyes, knowing the anger and disappointment within her. Whisking around from the front of the class, Kayla silently maneuvers her wheel chair to the rear of the class. Faith is surprised to see the chair outfitted with a small electric motor, giving her added speed and mobility. Stopping two feet in front of them, Kayla turns her head to a large clock against the farthest wall; the digital display reads three-o-four. Kayla slowly returns her gaze upon the pair, and looks up at each of them. Dryly she says: “You’re late.” A long pause follows, as Kayla struggles to suppress her stutter. “Don’t let it happen again. Seeing that you… jogged here, I guess that y-y-you don’t need to warm up like the others. Officer Huxley, please take your place behind…. Officer Connor or Hernandez, and….. Faith please take center stage.” Faith feels the icy chill in Kayla’s emotionless words. She knew too well that this went far past than just cold student/teacher relationship. She was really upset; and fortunately only she’d know how upset she really was.

            Trailing behind Faith, Kayla begins her speech. “N-Now that w-we’re _ALL_ here… I c-can begin. My name is K-Kayla, and I’m going to be your instructor f-for the next … four weeks. I’ll be here every day, M-Monday through F-Friday, f-for the next four weeks. Y-You are required to make twelve of my classes in that time frame, a-a-and at least twice a week, u-u-unless I tell you differently. Th-there are only… twenty-eight of you here. F-from this twenty-eight, I… can only h-hope to h-have one or two of you w-worthy enough…. t-to continue under my…. tutelage. I am n-not… required to take anyone who isn’t w-worthy to be taught, and I…. won’t. I’m not your friend or y…your buddy. I’m your sensei! Learn and know the difference.” Kayla maneuvers the chair through the ranks of officers, looking coldly into their eyes.

            “F… from the looks of you,” stopping in front of Officer Alicia Green, “you all have q…quite a ways to go b-b-before you’re even able to s-start learning. I d-doubt s…some of you even have it in you.” The meek redhead is obviously hurt by Kayla’s words, and fights the instinct to bolt for the door. Kayla hides her surprise that she didn’t, and thinks to herself that she might have some hope for her yet. “Mmm…most of you won’t m-make it to my actual class; and eee…even if none of you did, that wouldn’t aaaa…affect me in the slightest. Everyone is w-welcome to try and p-prove me wrong, bbbb…but I really d-don’t see that happening. I won’t teach anyone who’s nnn…not able or willing ttt…to learn. You must show respect to the masters who have come before you. Y-you must sh-show respect to the masters amongst you. And you must sh-show respect to the masters who will come after you. Th…that means you must r-respect one another a…as they might be your master tomorrow.”

Kayla rolls back to the front of the class, and spins to stare coldly into their eyes. “Enough of the p…pleasantries. D…during this examination p…period of three weeks, I’ll t…test you for physical and mental strength and fl…exibility. I’ll push you to your b…breaking point and see how you respond; only the f…fittest will be allowed to l…learn my arts. Anyone unwilling or incapable to learn will be asked to leave. Anyone who f…falls short of my expec…tations will not be in my f…final class. Now, w…with that out of the way, lets begin. F…Faith will demonstrate many of the maneuvers, or katas; and w…when she’s unavailable, I’ll use a computer s…simulation to d…demonstrate. Learn the names of the katas… and put emphasis on f…form. Later we’ll con…centrate on power, but for n…now just learn the forms. W…we’ll first start with the basics…”

****

            Looking up at the clock, Kayla sighs in exhaustion realizing two hours had passed. Glancing at Faith, she nods to end the day’s session. Looking out at the bewildered cops, Kayla announces,  “Thank you everyone. If you want to tr..train further, I’ll be here to…morrow, same time; if not, see everyone W…Wednesday.” Like a gaggle of drunken geese, the class turns to her to bow respectfully. Resembling more of a stadium wave, than synchronized effort, Kayla returns the respect, and watches them stumble out of the gym like a rogue band of zombies. Lenina waves to Faith, and she motions for her to not wait up. The sweaty mass of worn and weary officers, slowly vacate the building, leaving Faith and Kayla by themselves at the main floor.

Turning to Faith, she cracks a small grin at the sight of the exhausted students. Her attention turns to an older blonde woman making her way past the exiting students. Tara smiles and waves to the pair, as they tidy up their area, and stow the holographic equipment. As Kayla reaches down to disable the motor of her wheel chair, Faith silently asks Tara if she got it. Tara smiles wider, and nods yes. Kayla finishes disabling the motor, completely unaware of the conspiracy around her. Tara notices what she’s doing and asks why. Kayla throws the rest of her gear into her lap and replies: “It’s to keep me from becoming too sss….soft. My legs are defunct but that’s n…no excuse for me to l…let my upper body go to waste. Eventually I w-want to get rid of it all together, but I have t-to move around too much in class. I’d be exhausted in n…no time flat.” Faith moves behind Kayla and starts pushing her chair along. “Well until then, you can let me push.”

            As the trio moves outdoors, they wind their way to the visitor’s parking lot. As Faith explains why she and Lenina were late, they come to a stop in front of a red minivan parked in a handicapped parking spot. Kayla looks at the pair, puzzled as to why they chose to admire the red monstrosity before them. Kayla, not very impressed with the ergonomic box shape, shrugs her shoulders and asks, “What? It’s a m…minivan. So what?”

            Faith shakes her head, and wheels her over to the driver’s side. Tara comes up beside them and announces, “Vehicle! Deploy ramp.” A few clicks and whirls later, a three foot by three foot ramp comes from underneath the van and rests at the foot of the drivers door. Tara orders the door to open, and it slides backwards like a cargo door in a van. Faith pushes Kayla onto the ramp, and says: “Vehicle! Ramp up.” As if riding on air, the ramp effortlessly raises Kayla up and level to the van’s floor. Kayla wheels herself inside and wears a beaming smile, exclaiming: “TOO COOL! Wh…when did you make these arrangements, or sh…should I ask?”

            Faith and Tara strut along side the mini-van and peer inside, as the ramp disappears underneath the van. Kayla’s eyes dart across the van’s console, sorting out the various controls. Faith enjoys watching Kayla shine with enthusiasm of her newfound freedom. “It drives just like a motorcycle, if you can remember how to do that. I know it’s been a while, for you.” Faith’s sarcasm gets a playful grin from Kayla, and she taps a series of buttons on the dash. Faith pulls back as the chair is secured in place and the seatbelt pivots forward, within Kayla’s reach. Tara can hardly believe how quickly she deciphered the seatbelt; it took her five minutes alone, and she still had to have the sales clerk to show her how to get it fully forward. Faith returns to Kayla’s side as the seatbelts and overhead harness are secured tightly. “Now, you’re only allowed to travel in auto-drive mode until you get your license. But, after this weekend, we can get you fully up to speed on that. At least the driving part, the written is a real pain in the butt. That’s going to take a bit of study. Even I have to take it; and it’s a real bastard, from the sounds of it. The book is nearly a hundred pages long, and the cops who give it are real hard asses. That’s why not too many people have cars, around here, and its pretty freakin’ impossible to afford one.”

            Tara slides up besides the pair and chimes in to answer that question. “Well, it comes back to that thing I mentioned earlier, about the State fearing you might sue them, and all. As long as they show that they accommodate your every need, and bend over backwards to provide you with a job, good place to live, and the means of freedom, which were taken away from you while in their custody, you have no reason to pursue any legal recourse against them. Basically, you’ve got’em between a rock and a hard place. And as long as they think you might sue them, they’ll continue to kiss your butt. It’s a really serious situation; they know you have the right to, and the last time the city settled with one of the victims, she walked away with twenty million after lawyer fees.”

            Faith scoops up Kayla’s hands and whispers: “Look Kay, free medical, dental, and housing aren’t something to take lightly. And bonus: they’re paying you to do something that you always said you wanted to do. Right?”

            Kayla sighs in frustration. “B……but I’m not interested in s….suing anyone! I just want to start living my l...life all over again, with a c-clean slate. N…nothing else!” She just stares into space, trying to make sense of the continuing turn of events. Faith pulls herself closer to Kayla and murmurs: “Baby, don’t rock the boat. If they want to believe you’re going to sue the socks off them, so be it. But if they catch wind that you’re more than willing to live off of welfare, in some slum, you know what they’ll do. I don’t want to see you like that. I NEVER want to see you living like that, and I won’t let you. Got IT?”

            Reluctantly Kayla nods in agreement and cups Faith’s face. Pulling her closer, she stretches out and kisses Faith. She breaks away, still nibbling her lower lip. “Well, l-lets n-not just s-stand around here g-gaping at the c-crippled d-driver! Lets get r-rolling!” Kayla cheers.

Even as they pile into the van and leave the parking lot, Romero stares at Kayla, wondering how she can control Faith so much. He sits in his patrol car, long after the trio departed, plotting his next move. Like a song in his head, he starts rummaging through a number of likely possibilities, ranging from pity and sympathy, to Florence Nightingale syndrome. Determined to help Faith past this stage of her life, he starts his car and rolls out of the parking lot, confident of his appraisal of Faith’s condition.

 

****

 

 As Faith churns through the shrubs leading to the cemetery, her mind spins from the day’s twists and turns. Crickets, unaware or unconcerned of her tumultuous day, chirp insistently even as she slides between the thicket of leaves and vines. Still floating from seeing Kayla on cloud nine, she lifts a strong branch out of her way. Coming to a tall granite wall, nearly as tall as her, she effortlessly puts her hands on the top edge and propels herself cleanly over the wall. Landing on the other side, she searches the immediate area for a number of fresh graves. Pulling out a pocket computer from her leather jacket, she taps the top corner of the screen, bringing it to life. After a moment, the small four inch screen displays a detailed image of the cemetery, with numerous red dots in the lower right hand corner. Getting her bearings, Faith looks around the area she’s in and shuts the computer off. Sliding it into her pocket once again, she angles her way towards a tall pine tree, a few dozen yards away.

Slipping out a twelve inch wedge of wood from inside her jacket, she stops in front of the huge pine, and leans back against it. Taking a few moments to reflect on her day, she tries to make sense of her reaction to Romero’s advances. On one side, she felt physically attracted to him, yet she had such strong emotional ties to Kayla. In her heart, she wanted to give a stern no to his cute flirting and invitations; yet she yearned to say yes for some unknown reason. Doubting Kayla would understand, she simply decides not to mention it to her for now, hoping she’ll figure out how to tell her by Friday. Rationalizing that the party was merely a shop party, for all the cops and it would be rude not to go, Faith believes this would be the best approach to take. Seeing that Kayla was such a logical thinker, she would understand how logical it was to go. Yet, if it was that logical to her, she wondered why was she grappling with her conscience so much.  She had never had this problem before, and never with another girl. Pausing on that thought, an image of her first watcher immediately flashes before her eyes. She had repressed all of her private moments spent in each others embrace, vowing to never get as close to another soul ever again. Yet once again, she’s torn with loving another woman. She had spent the remainder of her life refusing to care or love another person in order to shield herself from the pain of possibly losing him or her, one day. Buffy had proved her wrong, if not Kayla. Both of them had shown her that it was okay to care and love others, even with the heavy burden of destiny and responsibility. 

Buffy had unintentionally inspired her to realize she had a destiny; one she couldn’t deny or avoid. As the Slayer, she had to serve and protect the very mortals who sought to imprison her for a mistake she could have avoided. Buffy had accumulated a menagerie of friends, who she cared for and in many cases loved. Yet, she was able to complete her duties as a Slayer, even with the burden of her weaker companions. Unfortunately, it took her too long to realize this. Only after she had hurt and tried to kill her, did she come to this realization. Even Angel, as star-crossed as one can get, shared a deep love and respect with Buffy. It was amazing how Buffy naturally assembled people to her cause, and captured their hearts; even sadistic William the Bloody Spike was converted.

And if Buffy wasn’t enough, Kayla inspired her to make something more of herself. Even when cops, who wanted her more dead than alive, were pursuing Kayla, she never succumbed to killing and maiming. Her own pride and integrity prevented her from taking that last step, and that drew Faith to the tiny blonde-haired woman. Even with the entire world hunting her like a rabid animal, she never lowered herself to take another life; it inspired her to be more creative and resourceful. Shaking her head, she tries to figure out how she’d become attracted to short blonde chicks and tall dark-haired guys; never anything in between.

  Taking a quick breath, Faith announces to the pair of vampires who had snuck around either side of the pine tree. “About time you two showed up.” As they hesitate momentarily, Faith grasps the front of their shirts and smashes their heads together, leaving them both dazed and confused. As the vampire on the left stumbles backwards, his counterpart doesn’t even register Faith slamming her fist with the wooden stake into his chest. Even as the dust settles, Faith pounces on the fleeing second vampire, dropping him to the ground. The staking ensues moments later, and Faith picks herself up. Looking at the last two graves, she leans back against the tree listening to the chorus of crickets resume their nighttime symphony, and waiting to see if the last two would rise at all.

 

Creeping into her apartment, Faith tries to silently undress and take a quick shower before retiring to bed. After washing away the layers of vampire from her long brown mane and body, she begins to unwind from the exhausting night. Raking her long fingers through her hair, she drifts away, mulling over the day’s twists and turns. Torn between Romero’s advances and Kayla’s devotion, Faith struggles to put them in their places. Swinging open the shower curtains, she nearly jumps out of her skin finding Kayla sitting in front of the sink. Surprised by Faith jumping back a few inches, Kayla turns her wheel chair towards Faith and smirks. “Penny for your thoughts?” She casually rolls the chair forward to present Faith’s towel to her. Taking an extra few moments raising the towel, Kayla gets an eyeful of her lovely lover. Faith reaches out and slowly stoops down to gather the towel from her out stretched hand, her eyes meet Kayla’s with an amorous twinkle. As Faith slowly towels herself off, Kayla almost squirms in her seat, excited by Faith’s overtures. Faith returns her eyes down to her nakedness and finishes her erotic show. With the majority of the water removed, Faith finally looks up once again only to see Kayla cupping her face and weeping silently.

            Faith confidently steps from the tub, and kneels before Kayla. Pulling Kayla’s hands away she wipes Kayla’s cheeks. With her stutter out of control, Kayla barely sounds coherent. “Hhhhhoooow can y…y…you even sss..ssstand loooooking at me! I’m u…useless. And I sssssss…sound like a b…blithering id…iot!” Before she can continue, Faith silences her with a strong kiss. Pulling away from her salty lips she locks her eyes with Kayla. With a crooked smirk, she draws herself closer to Kayla. “Look dummy. I don’t gage my attraction to another person based solely on how well they walk, jump, or kick. If I did, I’d been nun a long time ago. You’re an incredible woman still and you’re selling yourself short saying that.” Scooping Kayla out of her wheel chair, she lifts the small woman up into her arms and carries her back to the dimly lit bedroom. Setting her on the edge, Faith starts to tug Kayla’s nightshirt off, only to be stopped abruptly. Kayla looks away from Faith ashamed and announces: “L…ights. Off.”

            Faith mentally curses herself for forgetting to shut them off before she tried to remove her shirt. Kayla was still too ashamed of the array of burns and scars across her body, to be seen naked when making love. Even though they bathed together ninety percent of the time, only when they made love would Kayla be overcome with shame and embarrassment. Satisfied with the light level, Kayla gingerly allows Faith to finish undressing her. Faith runs her hands along Kayla’s upper thighs and pulls the long plaid nightshirt out from underneath her. Faith once again suckles Kayla’s lips, inducing a warm yearning between them. Raising her arms up, Faith tears the nightshirt clear of Kayla’s upraised arms and tosses it mindlessly to the floor.

            Draping her arms around Faith’s exposed neck, she pulls the powerful brunette intimately close. Dragging her body up against Faith’s nakedness, Kayla suppresses the revulsion of her 2 dead weight legs pinning her to the bed. Determined to keep them from ruining this perfect moment with Faith, she struggles on and lets Faith help drag her to the center of the bed. Releasing her grip around Faith’s neck, she pulls Faith up on top of her like a deadly hunter over a helpless animal. Kayla entices Faith to scoot further up, by gently tugging her forward. Determined to prove herself worthy as Faith’s lover, Kayla suckles every square inch of her abdomen, long before she reaches her true objective.

            Restless, Kayla glances at the clock. Tired, she leans against the sleeping brunette next her and silently remembers the words she’d promised to her the night before she convinced Faith to turn herself in. ‘If I were dead, and you still were fighting for your life, I would come back from the darkness, back from the very pits of hell, to fight at your side.’ Fearing her dysfunctional voice would rip Faith from her needed sleep, she leans against her, cheek to cheek, and prays for some mental osmosis or telepathy to pass the words instead. 

 

**August 26, 2032**

**San Angeles, (4:01am)**

 

            Before a demonic audience of thousands, she stands alone. Armed with only a sword and a simple robe to protect her, she readies herself for the onslaught of warriors who stand between her and their leader. The first dozen beasts fall easily under her steel, but she soon discovers they were only there to slow her down and weaken her. The second squad, composed mostly of trolls, brandish their favorite swords and hammers. Laughing and carrying on while she kills the first squad, they hold their ground until she finishes killing every last one. Her long robe, red from the blood and entrails of the dead, defiantly flaps in the hot wind. Seemingly pleased with her performance, the second squad suddenly charges forward, to test her steel.

            In minutes, the last troll collapses to his knees, as if trying to catch its own head before it strikes the ground. Bouncing twice, it comes to rest before her feet, and she casually kicks it aside. Her robe, now dyed with her own blood, displays numerous tears and rips from wounds. Weakened from battle, she confronts ten more squads of demonic warriors all greater than the ones who came before them. Decorated with fresh wounds, she still struggles to walk tall, even as the demonic master comes forward to do battle. Nearly 9 feet tall, it approaches with its head bowed and arms crossed at the chest. She can barely keep her blade steady as it suddenly throws its arms out, and unleashes a pair of frighteningly huge bat wings from its back. Fear fills the void between them, and darkness clouds the eyes…

            Faith suddenly jumps from her dream world, to see a bright-eyed Kayla staring at her deeply. Kayla turns on a compassionate smile and stretches to kiss her lightly. Faith turns the light peck, into a heated embrace, which lasts until the alarm blares out rudely, ten minutes later. Kayla lets Faith shut it off then asks, “S-so what b-brought that on? Y-you act like you hadn’t s-seen me in ages, or w-worse.” Faith tries to carefully word her response, but winds up taking too long to respond. “Just wanted to show you how I felt about last night. Something wrong with that, sweetie?” She thinks the cute smile gives her away, so she tries to tone it down quickly. Kayla can hardly believe her eyes as Faith actually tries to lie to her. Deciding the moment isn’t good to start a discussion, which will lead to a fight; she lets it slide and simply cuddles in Faith’s embrace. Resting her head against Faith’s left breast, she closes her eyes until Faith has to get ready for work. 

            After rushing through the shower, Faith throws her uniform on and finds Kayla laying out breakfast in her favorite white terry cloth robe. Expertly wheeling herself across the kitchen, she glides from one corner to the next, unobstructed. Not wanting to disappoint Kayla, she fights the urge to rush out the door to meet Lenina in time. Half chewing and swallowing, she gulps down Kayla’s omelet sandwich and downs it with freshly squeezed orange juice. Kayla hides her smirk, and watches Faith inhale her breakfast and dash out of her seat. Meeting her at the door, Kayla hands Faith her jacket, and returns Faith’s kiss. Smiling, she slowly closes the door behind Faith, and wheels up to the table. Picking at her omelet, she can hardly stomach the barely edible eggs and mystery ‘meat-stuff.’ After shuffling the food from one side of the plate to the next, Kayla eventually gives up, and cleans the table of dishes. Satisfied with her handy work, she meanders to the bathroom and starts running the bathwater.

Dropping a few oily quarter-sized tablets into the tub, she lets the tub fill. Inhaling the rising lavender emanations, she stops the water and slips her robe from her bare shoulders. Peeling herself out of the robe, she drags her limp legs from the chair, into the warm water of the tub. Guiding them along, she follows them into the water and splashes the refreshing warm water over herself. Leaning back, she savors the calming embrace, and surrenders to her exhaustion. As she falls asleep, she fights to suppress the horrors of a different time and place, all too vivid in her memory.

****

 

Tara, tying her robe tight at the waist, rises from the couch to answer a ring from the door. After looking through the peephole, Tara greets Kayla with a warm smile as she opens the door. “Hey kiddo! Come on in. You make it here all on your own?”

Kayla smirks and says, “Yup. F-Faith was in a hurry, and I n-need to get used to doing things for m-myself.” After Tara moves aside, she wheels herself in, deposits her gym bag on a chair by the door, and rolls herself up to the kitchen table beside Willow. The heavy oak table with hand-carved engravings drips with gothic fright. From the exquisitely carved gargoyle heads at the corners, to the lion-pawed legs, the table weighed easily 200 pounds. From what she’d heard, the table was an antique, nearly 400 years old. A present from Tara, the table was an anniversary present, which doubled as a powerful conjuration platform. It took Tara 3 years to locate, and was bought for a fraction of its worth, thanks to a shrewd yard sale deal. Willow would spend hours working at her table, and it was her favorite piece of furniture, besides the silk sheets on the bed. Burying her nose in a book, she doesn’t notice Kayla park herself next to her. 

Placing a San Angles drivers manual in front of her, Kayla scoots up to the table and opens it up to a dog-eared page. Scanning the page, she unceremoniously closes it and looks over to see what has engulfed Willow’s attention. Flipping thru a leather-bound text, Willow adjusts he petit reading glasses and instinctively grasps a simmering cup of tea. Without taking her eyes from the book, she enjoys the strong herbal drink, and places it back onto the saucer. Kayla eyes the dramatic scripting and obscure language, unable to make any sense of it. Tara walks in and notices the pair staring mindlessly at the ancient Tome of Nevanderthil. The text was a rare find, which took two years and over five thousand dollars for a research team to uncover in Romania. Willow had only got it three weeks prior to the Cryo-prison escapes, and she was still only a quarter of the way through it. Tara slides up a chair across from Willow and Kayla, and says: “Don’t bother trying to talk to her while she’s reading, I gave up years ago.” Kayla looks up and smiles. “I-I wasn’t trying to be n-nosey, I j-just was w-wondering what w-was absorbing her c-complete and u-utter at-tention. M-Must be a good read, a h-hell of a l-lot more interesting than this d-driver’s m-manual. It’s written like s-stereo ins-structions; no w-wonder more people d-don’t drive around here.”

Letting loose a restrained chuckle, she sips at her tea and offers Kayla a cup. After accepting the simmering porcelain cup, Kayla adjusts herself, and inquisitively eyes her and Willow. “D-Don’t either of you g-go to w-work? Well, f-foot in mouth again, I’m s-sure; but d-don’t you two have… j-jobs or something? I’m n-not complaining y-you understand, I-I think you t-two are super for letting m-me h-hang with you t-t-till I have to go to the s-station. B-But still, I d-d-don’t want to intrude either.” Tara pours on her cheeky warm smile and lightly squeezes Kayla’s arm. “You’re no trouble dear. I’m ‘Officially’ retired, but still on payroll, until next summer. They call me up for unique casework now and then, because they can’t afford to pay me by the hour anymore. I make enough every month to live very well, and when I do work, it let’s me buy Willow these,” pointing to the large book in front of Willow, “…little presents.”

Willow suddenly looks up from her reading and looks around, after hearing her name. Tara shoos her back to what she was reading, and continues. “And Willow, well she’s independently wealthy. She’s working, right now, as an accomplished author of seventeen different books, plus an additional eight which were only rewrites and reworking of the titles, to suite a different audience.” Kayla squints trying to make sense of that last part, and watches Tara go to the bedroom and return with two books. Each easily an inch and a half thick, Tara places them down in front of Kayla. Willow stops her reading, slides her glasses off, and looks up to see what her partner has in store.

Lifting the first one up, Tara says: “Take this one: ‘Memoirs of a Wiccan: Growing Up In Sunnydale California and Surviving.’ It was on the bestsellers top ten list for thirty-eight weeks.” Setting it down she picks up the other book and presents it to Kayla. “Now this one: ‘How to be a Warrior Wiccan in Sunnydale California and Survive’ was released to the OTHER bookstores. Pretty much the same book, except it gives exact spell structures and procedures that the other didn’t. That was her first book, and it led to all the rest. But, what set her up for life, were a few copyrighted spells, which she’s still receiving annual payments from a certain snobby British organization. They use her books as study guides. She created and patented a spell for capturing sunlight into a small crystal ball, then developed it into a weapon for combating vampires.”

Willow pulls her nose out of the book long enough to smile meekly and say, “That was called a Ball of Sunshine. The watchers council didn’t like my name so they paid me even more money to change the name to Globe of Daylight. It makes a nifty grenade when you want to dust a vampire or a cool lamp for nighttime use. Problem is that it radiates heat, which is cool when you’re in the great north, but hell down here in the summer. But if it didn’t, it wouldn’t be a ball of sunshine, would it? It would be just another light spell.” Tara nods in agreement, and continues. “And she also tinkered with a Tinkerbell spell which she copyrighted. That’s still pulling in annual revenues, too. Yup, my little lady is the breadwinner around here, I just work for fun.”

Kayla basks in the warmth of two women, their love virtually blinding her. She looks away embarrassed that she envies the fullness of what they have. Looking down at the second book, she opens it and flips through the first couple of pages. Looking up at Tara, she asks: “D-Do you m-m-mind if I b-borrow?” Referencing the book, “I c-could sure use s-something different to read n-now and th-then.” Tara mulls over it, and nods her head approvingly. “Sure, I guess it wouldn’t hurt. Just ignore the spell stuff. We both have always felt it was the best written of the two. Willow talked more openly about her relationships in there, than in the first. It’s a better autobiography than the national release.” Like a treasured heirloom, Kayla carefully opens it and starts reading.

****

 

            As Kayla wheels herself into the gym, she’s surprised to see Officer Alicia Green sitting on the gym floor stretching. Dressed in her police issue black sweatshirt and blue sweat pants, she leans over stretching her legs. Impressed with her dedication, Kayla solemnly rolls by and asks, “Officer Green, c-could you give m-me a hand with s-setting up. F-Faith is late again, and I w-want to be set up and r-ready to go on t-time.” In her usual shy manner, Alicia nods and rises from the wooden floor. With a little work, the holographic displayer is rolled out to the center of the floor, and is ready to go as the first students strolling in. With a quick smile, Kayla thanks her and tells her to finish up stretching with the rest. Like clock work, Lenina rushes in at five minutes till, followed by Faith and Officer Hernandez strolling a few minutes later. Laughing and carrying on, they casually walk to the center of the floor and stop. Biting her tongue, Kayla looks over the class and counts only seventeen. Taking a minute to tally and record everyone who made it, Kayla starts the class once more with a few stretches and proceeds directly into the Katas.

 

            Arriving back at their apartment, Faith wheels Kayla into their apartment and helps her take another shower; the warm perfumed water, sooths Kayla’s sore arms while working wonders to Faith’s tired legs. Nestled between Faith’s legs and slim arms, Kayla cuddles in her embrace and tries to forget the day’s events. As Faith spends the next half hour bathing Kayla, she’s surprised to discover Kayla asleep in her lap. Soaking up the security and warmth of the small woman, Faith weighs the pros and cons. As much as she feels the pull of the open road, she’s drawn to the stable security of knowing this small woman loves her unreservedly. The helplessness and dependence Kayla for her appeals to her in some bizarre level; one she can’t make sense of yet. Without stirring Kayla, she reaches out grasps the hand sprayer to rinse off. The soap washes away and wakes the sleeping beauty in her arms. Waking with a smile, a tear rolls down her cheek, and a worried Faith cups her chin and forces her to explain herself. Stretching her neck out, she kisses Faith and whispers, “Th-that was the… first time I’d slept without h-having a bad dream. I w-wish that could happen all the time.” Burying her face in Faith’s chest, she holds the embrace until Faith urges that they must leave the pruning water.

            After Kayla insists she cooks dinner for the two of them, she spends two hours preparing an incredible stuffed chicken meal. Faith can hardly believe the quality of the meager dinner Kayla had thrown together with so little notice. With the food and dishes cleaned and put away, the pair cuddle up on the couch and talk about each other’s day. After Kayla updates Faith on Willow’s successful writing career, she mentions how Officer Green helped set up the gym earlier. Faith smacks the side of her head and apologizes profusely. “I’m so sorry! I totally forgot you were going up there by yourself, today. I just got so busy talking to Romero…” Kayla bites her lip, already knowing the answer she was going to hear. Clenching her jaw, she painfully endures the lengthy tale and glistening admiration Faith has for the charismatic young man.

            Ending her story, Faith begins to nuzzle at Kayla’s neck, trying to give her a passion-soaked hickey.  Kayla can hardly believe it, and brushes off her advances by pulling away suddenly. Surprised, Faith looks at her confused and can’t fathom the sudden cold streak. Kayla raises the collar of robe; protecting herself from a sudden chill around her neck and Faith’s advances, saying: “I-It’s g-getting l-late. I’m s-still p-pretty t-tired.” Knowing her wheelchair is still in the kitchen, she sits coldly waiting for Faith to take her to it. Faith sighs loudly, gets up, and carries Kayla to the bedroom. Setting her down, Kayla smirks and asks, “Could you please bring my chair, too. I don’t want to wake you in the middle of the night just to go pee.” Jokingly, Faith smiles and replies, “But I don’t mind giving you a _hand_ doing that.” Kayla, not impressed by the off-colored joke, stares at Faith coldly, waiting for her to recover her chair. Raising her arms defensively, Faith backs away and leaves to get the wheelchair, mumbling to herself all the way.

****

 

            A blast of light blinds Faith, followed by a stabbing pain in her right shoulder. She drops from the intensity of the blow, and rolls to her left to avoid any follow up attacks. As she shakes off the pain, she’s ripped from the ground into a fully upright pose. All around her, torchlight illuminates the armies of darkness, massed for the spectacle of the Slayer’s final demise. Various vampires and demons, normally mortal enemies, stand side by side, desperate to gain a decent view of the impending carnage. An awesome figure stands behind her, holding her several feet in the air. Hovering three feet from the ground, she finds the strength to land a solid blow to its chest, causing it to release her to the ground below. Picking herself up, she delivers half a dozen sharp blows to its solid abdomen, knowing full well the uselessness in her attacks. Rolling out its reach, her jaw falls open in awe as it spreads its wings. The bat-like wings extend to nearly twice its height, and emanate an evil black aura. Faith crawls backwards slowly, fear having taken over her motor controls. Petrified beyond her capacity to think, she stumbles mindlessly trying to get far from the approaching demon. Taking great pleasure in tormenting the small woman before it, it bellows a menacing roar of laughter and rejoices in the aroma of fear pouring from Faith.

            Sitting upright in bed, Faith scans the room for the demonic figure from her dreams. Finding herself in an empty bed, she looks to see the wheelchair missing as well. Leaving the bed, she wanders over to the kitchen table where Kayla sits reading. Looking up, she smiles at the sleepy Faith, stumbling towards her. “Hey, b-beautiful. B-Bad dreams a-again?”

            Faith nods groggily, and pours herself a cup of tea. Sliding up beside her, she peers over Kayla’s shoulder to inspect the reading material. “Hmmm. Not your usual nerdy stuff, what is it?” Wrapping Faith lightly across the head, Kayla smiles and replies, “Hey! B-Be nice! Th-This is W-Willow’s book… actually her 6th book. Sh-She’s really good. Th-They’re all m-mostly documentaries and b-biographies, b-but a few are instr-uctional, like this one. I-It talks about the W-Wiccan s-societies and organizations in the l-last 200 years, and then it explains the h-how and w-why M-Magic works in the world ar-around us. It’s r-really c-cool; y-you sh-should r-read it s-sometime. Oh w-wait a s-s-second! Th-there aren’t en-ough p-pictures, s-sorry.”

            In mock shock, Faith stands up and spins Kayla’s chair around to face her. Pulling the book out of her grasp, she sets it onto the table and scoops her out of the chair. In a playful fit, she rolls and bucks in Faith’s arms, desperately trying to throw her off balance. Taking advantage of Kayla’s defenselessness, she lifts her shirt away from her stomach with her teeth and uses her mouth to tickle her insistently. As Kayla laughs and yelps, Faith takes her back to bed, and finishes what she started last night.

****

 

            Moving through the darkened corners of the streets of San Angeles, Gowen slinks from street to street; while constantly aware of each passing minute. With every moment that slips past his brethren, the closer they dance with the Master’s disfavor. Remembering the days before the Great One’s murder by the Slayer, their honor and service was seconded by none. But with his loss, came decades of hiding and their numbers dwindled to only a few dozen. But as the prophecies foretold the Master’s return, so did they tell of the coming of the Child of Light to slay the Master. With the current Slayer tucked safely away somewhere in the Baltic regions, their brethren had been assured that the two could never meet for the final battle. With only one to battle, the Master couldn’t lose. Even as they were assured days prior to the Master’s great battle against the Slayer, that the Child of Light wasn’t able to intervene and combine it’s power with the Slayer, the prophecies never foretold of the Demon Anyanka using her coven to battle against the Master. That unexpected advantage was the determining factor for the Master’s loss. Taking on a few dozen armored combatants was one thing; but battling a small coven of witches, while defending against a magically enhanced Slayer was too much. 

            Traversing up an alley, they stop and rap on a steel door. Having no handles or locks on the outside, they try to patiently wait for it to open on it’s own. Milling around and looking down both ends of the alley, they nervously jerk left and right, uncertain whether or not they were followed. A sudden cracking noise causes them to almost jump out of their layers of skin, as the door’s lock is released and the door creaks open two inches. From the darkness, a deep hypnotic voice beckons them to enter. Not wasting any time, they usher in franticly, fearing that at any moment they will be discovered. Piling into a small storeroom, which lacks any illumination, Gowen and his brethren use their enhanced sight to navigate through the well-stocked room. Clad in a dark teal robe, tall figure asks, “Did you bring the down payment?”

            Nervously Gowen replies, “Y-yes.” Motioning for two his brothers to come forward, they are assisted in removing their backpacks, heavily burdened with their contents. As the packs are removed, the wearer virtually collapses after having the great weight removed from his shoulders. Setting them before the robed figure’s feet, Gowen can’t help to notice the plaid night shoes, which he wears. Crouching down, he opens each of the bags displaying the contents, to the tall man. Nodding his approval, he motions to close them, and to leave. As they reach to open the door, he speaks one last time. “If the quantity and purity of the gold is sufficient, we should have a deal. In a few weeks, I shall know the identity of the Child of Light, and it will be dead.” Gowen spins around in shock, and opens his mouth to assure they would never cheat in a business arrangement, he immediately silenced. The dominating tone stops Gowen or any of his brothers from interrupting the tall man as he speaks. “I know your people aren’t capable of lying, but that doesn’t stop others from taking advantage of your disability. Your employers aren’t so reputable; so my caution, by no means reflects upon my perception of your character. It’s simply… a wise business decision. Understand?”

            Gowen nods his head, understanding his meaning, and bows to the figure ceremoniously. “Thank you for your respect. It shows us great honor. As long as the child is dead before the beginning of the next full moon, we won’t have any problems. If we should be any further assistance to you, do not hesitate to summon us.” Returning the gracious bow, he says: “If I have the need, I shall. Good evening. You need to get under way, sunrise is in a few hours.” Nodding his head once more, Gowen hurries his brethren out into the alley, and on their way; knowing their service is soon approaching completion.

****

**August 27, 2032**

**San Angeles, (2:40pm)**

 

            Wheeling herself into the gym, Kayla once again arrives to see Alicia Green stretching on the floor, preparing herself for the rigorous work to come. Everyday this week, she’d been at least twenty minutes early to stretch and help Kayla out setting up. Working the grave shift, she had plenty of time to make it to class early and still get some sleep in before and after the class. Kayla wound up relying on her help all week, seeing that Faith had either forgotten or got tied up at work to make it to her class early. Everyday she was impressed by the motivation these select officers displayed. Even though there were a few who hadn’t showed but once, the majority of the students had made it at least three times this week. With Alicia’s help, the equipment is setup just as Faith arrives with Officer Hernandez, with five minutes to spare. Lenina, having arrived ten minutes earlier, looks at the pair and mumbles something under her breath, too low for Kayla to decipher. Her expression isn’t as difficult to figure out; the disgust and tempered anger boils just under the surface. Kayla had suspected she harbored romantic feelings towards the dashing Officer Hernandez, but he seemed to be fishing for a different game fish altogether.

            Kayla suppresses her underlying anger, and starts her class with taking count of the students; to her surprise, everyone is present today. Setting the roster aside, she begins the class with their stretches. After fifteen minutes, she checks their basic stances, taught Monday. Pleased with all but a few students, she decides to proceed with the next level of training. Hopefully this will weed out those who aren’t very coordinated. After an hour of teaching proper falling and rolling techniques, the class is at its breaking point. With exhaustion virtually nipping at their heels, they assemble for a final bow to Kayla, ending the week’s lesson. The exasperated sighs shoot out, as they break their formation and meander towards the exits. Some don’t even make it that far, and collapse onto the cushioned mats below them. Only until all the equipment is stowed, does Alicia and a few others pack up and leave. Faith helps Kayla into her van and as Kayla pops open the passenger door, Faith stops her. “Hey Kay, I’m going to stick around and do some weights before I patrol tonight. The class workout isn’t up to par for me; it lacks the kind of training I need. I’m getting a bit slack, and I want to tone up a bit. You understand right?”

            Kayla, half expecting this, asks: “Oh. Okay. I- I’ll have d-dinner waiting f-for y-you when you g-get home. S-So y-you can h-head out… p-patrolling, r-r-right away.” Faith glances off to the station, noticing Romero heading towards the gym, and quickly replies: “No. Don’t bother. I’ll just grab something while I’m out. No need in waking up and fixing me something. I’ll be okay. You get some rest. I’ll be in late, and we can have a late breakfast. How’s that sound?” Looking away from Faith’s gaze, Kayla responds dispassionately, “Sure. B-Bye.” Faith stretches and kisses her on the side of the mouth. Faith patiently watches her pull away, before striding towards the gym. Scanning the room, Faith sees Romero donning shin and arm pads in the far corner. Smiling, she walks over and helps him get the rest of the gear on.

  Driving towards her apartment, Kayla suddenly turns away and parks. Activating the fiber-op phone, she gets an image of a young blonde in a white and blue medical uniform. Smiling, she greets Kayla. “Hey Kay! You looking for Faith?” Shaking her head no, Kayla asks: “A-Are your m-m-moms around? I n-need to a-ask them… stuff.” Noticing the stress in her voice, Lacey speaks with a more concerned tone. “No, they’re out doing some errands. If you want, you can come over and wait. They should be back soon.” Lacey knew they’d be out at least for another couple of hours, but she could tell Kayla was really bothered by something. Thanks to the wonders of technology, the fiber-op phones not only allowed perfect live video feeds, but it also made aura reading possible across the fiber-net. If she knew Kayla a little better, she wouldn’t have to rely on her aura to tell that something was amiss. Gauging the decreasing energy levels of her aura, she also surmised a few more things, as Kayla responds. “N-no. I d-don’t w-w-want to b-bother…” Cutting her off, Lacey insistently continues. “You won’t be a bother! I just got off of work, and would love to have someone to talk to during dinner. You hungry?”

Reluctantly Kayla nods, and says: “OK. I’ll b-be right there. D-Do y-you want me t-to p-pick up any…thing?” Smiling Lacey shakes her saying: “Negative. I’ve got everything I need here. I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

Arriving at the tall apartment complex, Kayla parks in a handicapped parking spot, and watches Lacey approach. Having changed from her Paramedic uniform into some comfortable over-sized pants and matching shirt, she helps Kayla out and up to her apartment. Wheeling past Tara and Willow’s, they stop next door at Lacey’s. A meager one-bedroom unit, the apartment was richly decorated with dazzling spectacles of statues and relics. If it wasn’t for a certain collector’s license, most of the items would have been confiscated years ago. Reminiscent of a Safari outing, the various totems and wall coverings give the small place a unique character. Admiring her decorating tastes, Kayla rolls herself through the apartment inspecting the array of artifacts. Stopping at a wooden statue three feet tall, she notices the fine handcrafting which went into it. From behind her, Lacey notices Kayla’s interest and says, “It’s Ancient Ethiopian. Took me many credits to procure. Do you like it?”

Kayla takes a second look at the statue, and shakes her head. “Nah. N-Not me. So… need h-help with d-dinner? I’m g-getting pretty g-good at it-t, especially a-after I l-learned a f-few things f-from Tara.”

Coming up behind her, Lacey pushes her into the kitchen and continues. “I see... Mom has been teaching you the craft, huh?” Kayla nods solemnly. “I… I’m t-told I’m a f-fast learner.”

Lacey smiles and takes a step back from her. “You are huh? Well prodigy, show me what you got.” Surprised, Kayla hesitates and then closes her eyes to concentrate.

****

 

 Faith lands a solid kick across Romero’s chest, sending him sliding across the mats and skidding to a stop on the wooden floor. Tearing off the pads in pain, Romero cringes in pain from her blow. Raising his hand, he stops Faith’s determined approach. “OKAY! I give! I think you cracked a rib. I take it back, you don’t hit like a girl.” Laughing off the pain in his chest, Romero struggles to get up and settles for a sitting-up position. Removing his headgear, he tosses it uselessly aside and admires the panting, sweaty Faith closing on him. Wearing a wide grin he continues defiantly. “Now I see why you didn’t wear the padding, I didn’t even lay a finger on you.” Removing her only protection, Faith tears off the headgear and drops it to the mat below. Collapsing beside Romero, she lays back exhausted. “God, it’s been so long since I felt like that.”

Romero looks up at her, laughing: “Like what?” Faith turns her head towards him and smiles. “Since I got a good a workout, not since…” She pauses as she remembers the very last time she trained this rigorously, was months before Kayla and her turned themselves in. Biting her tongue, she decides not to finish her sentence. Romero takes her silence as an opportunity to get another word in. “Hey! I’m famished. Let’s shower and we’ll get something to eat. I know of a good place, that’s not too pricey and it’s authentic.” Faith’s eyes widen and she dismisses her initial anxiety. “Sure. I’m starving too.” Getting up, Faith grasps Romero’s hand and pulls him up with her. Romero takes a few moments and enjoys the closeness and familiarity of Faith’s touch. Her hands, smooth and almost silky, hide her tough exterior. Hesitant to break the grasp, she reluctantly pulls her hand to her side. Wandering into the showers, she lathers up her hands, trying to clean away the day’s grime. After rinsing, she lathers her hands once more, relishing the feel of the soap between her fingers. Dwelling over how Romero held her hand, she shakes it off, and rinses. As she changes, she sees that she spent way too much time in the shower than she intended. Throwing on her clothes, she sprints out of the changing area, and joins Romero, patiently waiting in the lobby.

 

            Standing back from the pots and dishes floating from the stove to the table, Lacey admires Kayla’s mastering of levitation. Amazed at her concentration, she silently moves away from the table, and opens a drawer. Removing an old plate glued together numerous times before, Lacey casually tucks it under her arm and walks to the sink to get a drink of water. Facing away from Kayla, she gets a drink and watches the progress of the floating utensils and pots. With Kayla facing away from her, she gulps down the water, and slowly pulls the plate from her arm. After checking to see if Kayla is aware of her one more time, she lets the plate loose and it smashes into dozens of pieces. The crash echoes through the apartment and Lacey spins around expecting to see food and utensils crashing everywhere. Her amusing grin turns to shock seeing dinner moving unimpaired across the table to the intended placements. Coming around in front of Kayla, she stares at her in disbelief. Grinning smartly, Kayla lets the last of the dinner plates settle to the table before she opens her eyes. “Y-you n-need to tr-try better than-n that. It t-takes more th-than th-that to… startle me.” Lacey crosses her arms to her chest and waits for some kind of explanation. Kayla ends her fun by saying: “L-lets eat.”

 

            Sitting across from Faith, Romero finishes his spicy steamed rice and vegetables and takes a deep swallow of water. Smiling, he resumes the dinner conversation. “So, not bad, huh?” Faith nods, and replies: “Nope, not bad at all. I thought all this spicy stuff was illegal?” Shaking his head, Romero wipes his chin with a cloth napkin. “Mayor Friendly has been killing those old laws left and right. The verbal moralities act is history and he’s even trying to get movies from New Hollywood to be shown in theaters, here in town. Life is really starting to return to normal, at least to a real normal. I swear if I hear another ‘I want to be an Oscar Meyer Wiener’ I’m going to got nuts!” Laughing at the remark, Faith and Romero let the laughter trail off, and they find themselves sitting together in silence. Clearing her eyes, Faith looks out the distant window to see that the sun had set long ago. Remembering her task at hand, she wipes her lips and tosses the napkin onto the plate. Getting up quickly, she dons her leather jacket and nervously stares at Romero. Fighting not to sound like Kayla, Faith grimaces and seems unable to come up with an adequate explanation. “Uh…. I gotta get going. I need to do some stuff. Thanks for dinner, it was great.” The waiter who politely displays the check, stops Romero from chasing after her. Losing track of Faith as she dashes out the door, Romero franticly pays for dinner and tries to rush out the door. Heading out into the street, he looks up and down the street and sees no trace of her. Cursing under his breath, he gives up his pointless chase, and heads towards Taffy’s.

 

            Parked beside Lacey, Kayla talks to her as she puts the last of the dishes into the dishwasher. Smiling she hands Lacey the last dish on the counter. “I’ve h-had a l-lot of training in con-concentra-ation. Th-though I n-never learned m-magic before, I…I just ap-plied the s-same p-principles of ch-channeling my in-ner energy, t-to h-how I use m-magic. Easy.” Lacey stops and looks at Kayla. “EASY? It took me a year to master just levitating a flower! You learn it and master the whole enchilada in a few days! And you don’t think that’s incredible?” Kayla tries to explain herself, but Lacey cuts her off once again. “To top it off, you don’t even use verbal spell elements. I can’t imagine doing what you do, without it.” Shaking her head in disbelief, Lacey sets the plate into the washer. “B-but y-you see h-how w-well I speak. I… I c-can’t rely on it. Y-you should tr-try and l-learn Tai… Chi, sometime. It’ll… help you ch-channel.” 

            Still frustrated by her demonstration of magic, Lacey tries to dispel her emotions and finishes the dishes. Noticing a serving spoon on the table she smirks and murmurs: “Could you get that spoon for me?” Kayla has a hard time repressing the humor in Lacey’s voice; she chuckles and raises her fingers slightly from her lap. As easily and smoothly as if she had wheeled picked it up herself, the spoon gently rises and floats towards Lacey. Amazed at how easily Kayla works, Lacey admires the slight grimace of concentration from her lower lip. Noticing that Kayla seems to be concentrating a bit harder than she had before, she’s relieved to know that even she has a limit to her power. Only inches from her hand, the spoon suddenly stops. Hanging in midair, it unexpectedly shakes and vibrates, before it drops from the air. Kayla can hardly believe her eyes, as her vision fades and she tumbles into a deep pit of unconsciousness.

            Finding herself in her wheelchair, Kayla cautiously looks around the crowds of a busy club. Various couples dance and gyrate to the incomprehensible din of drums and guitars. Passing a crowd of badly and loudly dressed teens, Kayla leans over to see them surrounding a table with a blender on top. Their clothes, baggy and smelly, block her sight. As if suddenly willed to move, they part to show them dangling a live frog over the blender. The fat green animal falls helplessly into the whirl of blades, sending green and red parts everywhere, and bringing great amusement to the crowd surrounding it. Shaking her head, she tries to forget the disgusting vision of the poor frog, and wheels away from them quickly. Feeling drawn to the rear of the club, she slowly rolls to a stop in front of the last table, by the backdoor. An ominous evil presence slinks and shifts from the protection of the darkness. Overcome by fear, she turns to escape, only to stop in her tracks by a deep Middle Eastern voice beckons to her. “It’s been a long time little one. Please, sit by me.” Kayla’s mouth runs dry, and her skin crawls as the familiarity of the diabolic voice sings to her. As if reliving an old nightmare, Kayla can’t find the strength to run. His presence demands her to comply; fearing reprisals, she hesitates. The memory of his torture sessions burns and crawls under her skin; with his word, she was raped and abused, until his amusement was satiated. Once more he beckons, “Please _Little One_ , come and sit by me. I won’t ask again.” The forcefulness in his tone demands her compliance. Tears roll down her cheeks, and she slowly turns and enters the darkness surrounding him.

            Kayla’s eyes slam open. Looking left and right, she discovers she’s lying on Lacey’s bed, alone. Breathing heavily, she fights the urge to run and hide, only to realize she’d been having another nightmare. Lacey suddenly enters the room, toting a wet hand towel. Relieved to see her awake, she sits by her head and wipes the tears and sweat from her face. Lacey comforts her, saying: “You need to take it easy; you over-exerted yourself. How do you feel?” Straining to swallow, Kayla squeaks out hoarsely, “Weak…” Kayla feels her stomach roll and tumble suddenly. “Sick.”

            Lacey nods knowingly, and pats Kayla’s brow with the cool cloth. “It’ll pass in a bit. Just concentrate on breathing.” After twenty minutes, Kayla finally feels well enough to move. Sitting up in bed, she looks at Lacey ashamed. “H-how long wa-was I out?” Lacey returns from the bathroom carrying a glass of water, and says: “Not long. I’d say ten or fifteen minutes tops. Nothing to worry about. Do you mind me asking you something?” Afraid where it will lead, Kayla reluctantly nods in agreement. Preparing for the unknown, Lacey slides up besides her and asks carefully: “Who’s ‘Little One’? I heard you say that while you were out of it.” 

            Ashamed, Kayla lowers her head and murmurs: “Me… it w-was the p-pet n-name one of m-my tor…turers gave to me t-to an-swer to. H-his n-name was D-Dr. Ah-mil.”

            Regretting having asked Lacey, she solemnly says: “Sorry.” Helping Kayla back into her wheelchair, Lacey hears a noise outside and says: “Hey, that might be mom.” Before she leaves, Kayla grasps her forearm and whispers: “Hey, I’m okay a-about y-you asking. Uh-Understand?” Feeling bad about her nosiness, she sheepishly nods her head and heads towards the door, not too convinced of her pardon.


	3. Part 3

# Part 3

**September 17, 2032**

# San Angeles, (8:40pm)

 

Leaping over the brick wall, Faith catapults herself into a quiet cemetery on the edge of town. She’d read of a recent death that sounded too much like a vampire killing and it was all the way across town. Coming to a sudden halt, she fumbles with a side pocket on her backpack and slides out a twelve-inch stake. The oak stake, polished at the handle portion, was an heirloom passed down from Buffy’s days as a slayer. At times, it was strange for her to look back and dwell over filling Buffy’s shoes. She had not asked for the honor or the duty; but it always seemed that choice was never an issue in her life. Listening intently, she feels around the lonely cemetery with her senses. Scanning the rows of graves, she notices a fresh, undisturbed grave. Looking around further, she sees no other graves and makes herself comfortable for the long wait. Silence returns to the cemetery, and the chirps and chorus of the night’s creatures, resumes.

 

Kayla drags her lonesome self off the couch and into her wheelchair. Finally, at the breaking point of boredom, she calls to Willow and Tara’s for some support. To her surprise, Lacey answers the phone and fills her in on the two’s romantic dinner and concert plans for the evening. Sensing Kayla’s tension, she invites her over for some more Magic-101. In a very short time, Kayla is wheeling herself inside and they are discussing the finer points of conjuration. Sipping on a strong mint tea, Kayla finds herself hindered too much by her speech impediment, and becomes increasingly frustrated with expressing herself. Lacey cannot help but feel sorry for her and immediately tears herself away to the hidden library. Returning with a stack of books well above her head, she slides the stack of books onto the great table, and instructs Kayla to look for a reference to ‘Mental Ties’ or ‘Telepathy.’ Lacey continues by saying: “Mom, err Willow, told me about a spell which could bind or connect two minds simultaneously. She said it made learning new spells a jiffy, but it had lasting side effects. Mostly that you cannot break the connection after it is made; it has to wear off on its own, after a day or so. But I’m not that powerful yet, so the duration wouldn’t be as long, a day tops. Second thing is that you share all your thoughts! Anything that pops up, or even your deepest of secrets can be heard by the other, and vice versa. She said her and Tara invoked it once, and decided it was a spell that should be used sparingly. Basically, she warned to keep your mind on the here and now at all times, and never let your mind wander; if you’re not careful, you could accidentally ‘wander’ into the other person’s head. She said the most dangerous thing about the spell was that you could kiss your most personal and secret of thoughts goodbye; they wouldn’t be secrets anymore.” Smiling to Kayla, she whispers: “Besides, I don’t have anything that secret. My life is already as boring as it gets; and I can keep a secret if you’re worried about your past…” Lacey pauses and dwells on her last words before continuing. “…well, I’ve read what the reports say, and it’s in the past now. It’s none of my business any which way it goes. What do you say?”

Kayla swallows dryly, and opens her mouth to speak, only to have the words fail her. Her desire to have the truth known about the murder of her girlfriend, compounded by her stutter, is too appealing. Searching over any truly embarrassing thoughts, she’d prefer to kept hidden, she gives up and squeaks: “Sure. L…Let’s do it!” Whisking through the books, Kayla comes across a ‘Mental Link’ reference, which turns out to be the very one they were searching for. Helping Kayla out of her chair and to the floor, Lacey begins the incantation.

           

Cursing under her breath, Faith rises abruptly and makes her way to the freshly laid grave. Sitting atop the tombstone, a pure white stone glowing brightly in the moonlight, she anxiously awaits the wakening of the new vampire with a stake in hand. Looking down at her watch, she counts the number of hours she’d lost just sitting around. With one A.M. just passing, she knew Kayla was already fast asleep. Wishing she could be doing the same, she slides her sleeve back down and listens intently to the minute vibrations from six feet under. Restraining her breathing in anticipation, the dirt slowly undulates and sprouts a hand from the fresh soil. Adorned with conservative fingernail polish, the woman’s hand grasps for the freedom of the open air, as if it needed to suck in the precious gas. Like a hungry cat, Faith crouches to spring atop the new vampire. Letting her impatience get the better of her, she rocks back and forth, anticipating the full emergence of the undead creature. Bursting from the dark tomb, the vampire bears evil satisfaction from escaping the clutches of death, only to revert to surprise and pain, as the tip of Faith’s stake protrudes poignantly from the front of her chest. A fraction of a second later, the air is clouds with vampire dust and Faith is soaring over the high walls of the cemetery, towards her apartment.

            Jogging past the numerous clubs and restaurants, she’s surprised to see any still open. Slowing down, she discovers Taffy’s is just winding down and only a handful of customers are laughing and carrying on inside. Peering inside, she notices the owner behind the bar joking and chuckling with the remaining customers. As she turns to walk away, she glimpses something familiar and looks closer to the rear of the bar. Leaning back in their purple and green chairs, Romero and John casually converse, while listening to the small band strum out a mild beat. Faith’s eyes lock onto the frothy-yellow liquid inside their glasses, and she licks her lips anticipating the rich taste. Rationalizing that Kayla would be fast asleep; Faith back-steps her way inside, orders a tall mug of beer and pulls up a chair beside John.

            Wheeling herself out the door, Kayla is surprised to see Willow and Tara laughing and chuckling down the hall. Tara, hanging on Willow’s shoulder, smiles warmly at Kayla and says something to Willow. Willow doesn’t seem to react to what she says, and the couple pauses before her. Tara adjusts her purse, and reaches down to squeeze Kayla’s shoulder. “How yah do’in kiddo?”

Kayla, reaches and catches Tara’s hand and returns the friendly squeeze. “Sss…seen better. Y-you two en…joy yourselves?”

            Willow smiles and replies, “It was dreamy.” Giving Tara a huge hug, she kisses her on the  cheek, and slides by the pair. “I’m going to fix me some tea. Want some anyone?” Tara looks down at Kayla and then at Lacey. Kayla shakes head, and says: “N..no thank you. I… I need to be going. F…Faith should be home sss…soon, and I d…don’t want to w…worry her.” Lacey speaks up and strides out the door. “And I need to be getting home too! I have to be at work in the morning, and this girl…” coming around and grabbing a hold of Kayla’s chair, “is getting an escort home whether she likes it or not.” Tara smiles at the scene before her. Just as soon as Kayla’s mouth opens in protest, Lacey intercedes. “And I don’t care if you don’t want it, you shouldn’t be wheeling yourself around at night.” Tara stands at the door watching the pair joke and carry on until the elevator carries them away. Something in the back of her head notices how peculiar Lacey was responding to stuff, before Kayla could respond.

            After reassuring Lacey she’d be okay until Faith gets home, Kayla undresses and wraps herself in a large soft blanket. The cotton fabric excites her nakedness and fuels the desire for Faith’s return. Levitating herself to the couch, she tucks herself in and patiently waits for Faith’s return. As one A.M. rolls around, she suppresses her worries by opening up her GED study guide. Realizing she knew far more than what the test required, she easily finishes off the remainder of the book in an hour. Determined not to let her worrying get the better of her, she tosses the study guide away, and picks up a spell book to look through. As her thoughts soon stray, she can hear Lacey going over her schedule for the next day as she drifts to sleep. Amused with the ability to read Lacey’s thoughts, Kayla imagines the many things she’ll do when Faith gets home. Her mind flashes with images and sensations; and as she fights taking matters into her own hands, she realizes that Lacey is probably hearing and seeing everything. She’s assailed with embarrassment and puts her mind back to algebra. As she calculates the area of a half cylinder, she reluctantly drifts off into the dark realms of the night, with an unwilling companion to bear witness.

            A series of blood curling screams echo across the floor, tearing Willow and Tara from their light slumber. Overriding and opening Lacey’s apartment door, Tara and Willow rush in to see Lacey screaming in her bed. In a chaotic fit, she tosses and turns fighting an imaginary foe, pulling free the bed sheets and tossing the pillows across the room. Avoiding her wild kicks and punches, Tara and Willow manage to pin her to the bed and wake her from her dream world. Panting, desperate to catch her breath, Lacey gasps out: “We’ve got to help Kayla!”

 

**September 18, 2032**

**San Angeles, (1:40am)**

 

            Faith quietly stomps through the hallway towards the shower, anticipating the washing away the grime of two vampires and half a dozen beers. Pausing to check on Kayla, she pokes her head into the bedroom, only to find an empty bed. Peaking her curiosity, she notices Kayla’s wheelchair at the foot of the bed, and her clothes piled neatly atop the seat of the chair. Backtracking her way to the living room, she surprised to find Kayla sleeping fitfully atop the couch. She reaches down to comfort Kayla, only to hesitate after grasping her lifeless legs. The momentary horror of grabbing hold of Kayla’s limp limb crawls through her and she tears her hand away. Looking at her hand, she hardly believes what she did and immediately retreats to the shower.

            Trying to wash away some of the guilt, she scrubs furiously at her hands and skin. Satisfied with her cleanliness, she dries herself off and strides out to get Kayla. Scooping her up blanket and all, Faith hardly registers how impossible it would be for Kayla to have gotten to the couch by herself. Resting Kayla’s head against her shoulder and neck, she gently carries her back to the bedroom. Crossing the threshold, she’s surprised by a sensual nibbling on her neck. Smiling, she moans lightly from Kayla’s passionate ministrations, and slows her stride towards the bed. Kayla takes advantage of Faith’s reduced pace by grazing further along her neck. Whispering to her, Faith says: “Sorry I was late, forgive?”

            Kayla picks up her pace, and Faith begins to weaken in her knees, and the warmth seems to flow through her like a river. Wanting to hear Kayla acknowledge her, she tries to pull her away, only to feel Kayla lock her lips tightly on her neck. A surge of horror and danger fills her and she instinctively launches Kayla across the room. Bouncing off the far wall, Kayla lands on her hands and knees atop the bed in a crouch. Crawling across the bed like a cat, Kayla licks her lips, cleaning off the remains of Faith’s blood. Her ice-cold stare freezes Faith in her tracks, as she’s helpless to either run or attack. Bearing the familiar ‘Game-face’ of a vampire, Kayla smiles evilly, rolls off the bed, and stands erect. With an evil tone, she asks pitifully: “Why did you abandon me? Was your pride too great, or did you not have enough love or concern for me to give me some of your life fluid to sustain me?”

            Sounding too much like Kayla, Faith’s voice stutters and cracks as she tries to answer her. Unable to decide which to answer first, she babbles mindlessly until Kayla silences her once again. “Doesn’t matter now. I’ll take it all, and you’ll join me in destroying this weak world, once and for all.”

            Faith tries uselessly to strike Kayla, only to have her avoid and dodge every blow, mockingly. With the pain of seeing her lover as a vampire, she’s easily overcome with emotion and finds her arm trapped by Kayla. For once real fear washes through her, followed by incredible pain, as her shoulder is forcibly dislocated. Screaming out loud, she spins around and tries to punch with her left. Pain welcomes her once again as her left shoulder is dislocated similarly. Dropping to the floor in agony and tears streaming from her eyes, Faith gasps for relief from the pain of seeing Kayla before her. Dropping to her knees in front of Faith, Kayla cups Faith’s chin, and whispers finally: “Unlike you, I’ll finish you off nice and quick, because I have and always will love you… for eternity.” Faith’s last thoughts are of how much she always loved the perfume Kayla’s wears, as Kayla drinks deeply from her throat.

            Bolting upright in bed, Faith scans her surroundings to find the alarm screaming painfully loud. Relieved to be free of dreamland, she instinctively wipes her neck, only to scoop up a handful of sweat. Further relieved, she reaches over and shuts off the alarm.

 

         Rushing around the kitchen, Faith hastily sets up the breakfast table as Kayla dresses. Still fumbling through the kitchen, she’s surprised on how easy Kayla made dinner the previous night. As she starts to ask Kayla how she got to the couch last night, she stops in her tracks, as the pseudo-sausage smells more cooked than it usually does. Whipping the pan off the stove, she curses in a low voice and hopes its still edible. As she puts the blackened soy product on the plates, she’s distracted even further by an annoying beep from the communication panel, across the room. Almost burning her hand from the hot pan, she tosses it into the sink and rushes to answer the fiber-op phone. Smashing the panel with her fist, she brings it to life, displaying an image of Tara. Momentarily surprised, Faith takes a step back then puts on a smile; thrilled it isn’t work calling her instead.

         “Hey T! What yah up to? I bet you want Kayla. I’ll get her.” As Faith turns to fetch Kayla, Tara immediately speaks up and stops her before she leaves. “ACTUALLY! Actually, I… I called to talk to you. I… well, WE need to see you about some…Slayer stuff… this morning. Kayla still doing that class this morning?” Faith shifts her stance and nods. “Yup. She’s got a dozen or so students who promised to show up, if she did.” She thinks about it for a moment, and says, “Sure, I’ll get Kayla setup at the gym, then I’ll head over to your place. How’s that sound?” Nodding her head in approval, Tara agrees and shuts off the terminal immediately.

            Mildly surprised and confused, Faith soon forgets about Tara and goes to the bedroom to check on Kayla. Crossing the room, she sees Kayla pulling herself into her chair from the bedside. She pauses as she watches Kayla straighten herself up in the motorized chair and get her legs tucked together. Like clockwork precision, Kayla ceremoniously arranges herself, and ensures she’s in complete order before leaving the bedroom. Leaning against the door, Faith waits until Kayla’s finished, before continuing. “Everything in working order, general.”

            Smirking, Kayla replies: “Y-yes. D-done b-burning b-breakfast?” Taken back by Kayla’s feisty wit, she smiles and goes behind her to push the wheelchair. “Ouch! I did say I was sorry for not waking you up when I got in last night, right?” Solemnly, Kayla nods and lets Faith continue. “And I did apologize for not getting home early, as well?” Kayla continues to nod. “And I thought I showed how sorry I was after I woke you up this morning?” Smirking even further, she teases: “It’s a g-good s-start.” Suppressing a smile, Faith pushes her to the table and sits next to her.

 

            At the gym, Faith is surprised to see so many officers on their day off, formed up for Kayla’s class. Only a dozen people showed up, but it wasn’t so much how many, as it was who. Several people who she figured would have and should have quit after the first week, were diligently lined up and in various states of stretching when they arrived. On guard for their approach, Faith notices Officer Green watching the door and jumps up from the floor to a position in front of the class. On cue, she brings the class to attention and facing forward. After ensuring the class is spaced out well enough for their routines, she heads towards her position at the rear of the class. Clearing her throat, Kayla gets Alicia’s attention and motions for her to approach. After Alicia bows to her, Kayla continues. “F-Faith isn’t staying. P-please help her w-with setup, if…if you d-don’t mind.” Smiling, Alicia replies, “It would be my pleasure, ma’am... err… Teacher!”

            Faith fights the urge to snicker or laugh at her mistake, and does her best to keep her facial expressions to a minimum. Faith knew that kind of mistake was hardly forgivable in the past, but too aware how much times have changed. In a few minutes, the floor projector is setup, and Faith is kissing Kayla goodbye. Whispering to her, Faith asks: “How long were you going to train today? You know these kids can only take so much abuse in one day.” Kayla grins evilly and wheels backwards slightly to address the class. “WH-who here w-was f-forced to come… this morning?” Confused, various eyes dart left and right through the ranks as no one raises their hands or steps forward. Kayla wheels back up to Faith and whispers to her, “S-see. Th-they’re here by th-their own choice.” Smirking, Faith jibes: “Like lambs to the slaughter?” Shrugging her shoulders, Kayla counters with: “Yah, b-but …” Faith reaches out and caresses Kayla’s cheek, as she turns to leave. “Be nice.” Nodding, Kayla says: “N-noon! O…kay?” Rushing out the gym, Faith acknowledges the time and speeds to the Rosenburg’s.

 

            As soon as Tara’s door slides open, Faith immediately exclaims, “OK. So what’s the big emergency? Kayla’s not very happy with this meeting cutting into her class time; she was planning on having me around, today.” Looking around the room, she sees Lacey with purple sandbags for eyelids, knee-deep into magic books. “Damn girl, you look like hell! When’s the last time you got some sleep?”

Scoffing her remark, Lacey mutters, “Sleep is the last thing I want right now.” Unable to understand what she meant by that, she shrugs it off and waits for Tara to close the door. Peering down at a few open books, Faith notices a few nasty looking monsters and demons; pausing to study a picture of what looks like a peach seed, her attention is diverted to Willow who breaks the silence. “As you may already know, Kayla and Lacey have been tinkering with magic lately, and last night they messed with a mind-linking spell which they couldn’t shut off. Well, one thing led…” Faith stops her suddenly. With a confused expression, she asks: “WHAT MAGIC? What in the hell are you all talking about, she never…” Trailing off, she slowly pieces together the last few weeks of weird events. Under her breath, she mutters incoherently, and bites her lower lip. Willow looks to Lacey and struggles to find a way to continue. “Uh… well, as I was saying, this spell went wrong, kinda, and.… uh…”

            Lacey finally interjects and finishes what Willow is incapable of finishing. “I saw her dreams, or at least the nightmarish hell which she calls dreamland. And I saw something else… something evil hiding deep within her… coiled around… no, within her belly. So evil, it hides its shape and purpose; foreign, yet so close to her, its indistinguishable from her true self. It’s using her… feeding off her despair and agony…” Lacey trails off, unsure where she was heading. Tara comes behind her to console her shared pain. “It’s a demon seed. It’s a forgotten art, especially for demons.”

            Willow lays a book below Faith’s nose and continues. “And good thing too! If it isn’t enough that demons prey on our very lifeblood, that they have to make our lives a living hell twenty-four seven. Only a handful of demons and sorcerers throughout history have known how to use one, and even less how to create one.” Tara squeezes Lacey’s shoulder one last time to comfort her, and looks towards Faith and Willow. “And from what we can tell, there’s one inside Kayla. We think it was put inside her while she was in prison, before she was frozen, but we have no idea who would or could have put it there. Do you have any idea?” Willow repositions the book, and points down to the ‘peach seed’ she had noticed earlier. Eyeing it more keenly, Faith notices the demonic tendrils sprouting from the top; covering it, the tendrils give the ‘peach seed’ appearance. A cold shiver, like a sharp icy finger raking down her back, travels through her. She sighs heavily, unable to comprehend the situation as her companions. “I don’t know… there’s no telling where. How long would it take to put one in her? Is it like just shove down her throat and it does it’s own thing or what?”

            Willow shifts uncomfortably, tucks a stray lock of gray behind her ear, and answers Faith timidly. “Well, that’s the thing. No one knows. Even our books just tell us that it can be done, and who might be able to do it, but not how.” Willow looks to Tara to try and better explain the magic involved. As if reading her thoughts, Tara continues. “The books always seem to leave that part out, as it should too. If we knew how so would other less desirables, if you know what I mean. From what I can piece together, it seems its not just shove it in the victim, and run. It seems to take more time than that; possibly even weeks or months.” Faith immediately interjects by muttering, “Like the 6 weeks or more she was under the State hospital’s care?”

            Solemnly, Tara nods seeing the unfortunate events of Kayla’s internment in the state’s mental ward. The sad truth that her degradation and abuse wasn’t limited to just the normal kind, strikes a cord in Tara. “Seems that way, huh?” A dreadful quiet lowers over the Scoobies pondering their next move, and reflecting on Kayla’s painful past. The silence suddenly parts with Lacey resuming her browsing through the books before her. “There’s a way to remove it, but it’s extremely dangerous. I think the three of us can work the magic part, but there are a lot of things that could go wrong.”

Tara nods and continues where Lacey stopped. “Mostly because there’s more than just a physical connection to sever. The seed establishes a mental noose around its host and physically ties into the central nervous system. As you break the physical connections, you have to remove the mental moorings, or else the host will die from withdrawal. Every account mentioned refers to this dual bond it forms, and the importance to sever both simultaneously. Fail to do this, and you lose the person you’re trying to save. Once you remove it, you can kill it with silver or blessed weapons. Simple.”

Faith stands, hiding her ignorance for the occult, and exclaims enthusiastically, “Great! When do you all want to do it?”

Willow and Lacey look at each other perplexed while Tara blinked repeatedly, trying to grab a hold of the task before them. She breaks the dazed silence, with uttering out. “Uh… I think we’re going to need your help in this too, you know? She needs…”

Faith stops her in her tracks by saying: “I have no idea on how to do the stuff you three can do. I’d just get in the way! I’ll get her here, just tell me when.” Faith stands abruptly and heads towards the door, before continuing. “I need to get back to her class; just let me know when you three want to try this, and I’ll get her here. Okay?” Tara steers towards the retreating Faith, but can only get within 6 feet before Faith is closing the door. “But…” The closing of the door leaves Tara standing bewildered in the center of the hallway as she finishes her sentence. “… Kayla needs you.” Turning towards her coven, she sighs loudly and shrugs her shoulders in disbelief.

 

Racing towards the gymnasium, Faith decides to slow her pace before entering, thinking that bursting through the doors wouldn’t be good for the class. As she makes the corner towards the front entrance, she stops in her tracks to keep from running into someone coming the opposite way. Her slowing does little to warn the person of her sudden arrival, and jumping backwards several feet. Stumbling like a drunken fool, Romero tries to catch his footing and breath. “CRAP! You scared the shit out of me! I thought I was the only straggler to her class.” Walking in short circles, he laughs off his exasperation and throbbing heart. Faith watches him in amusement and looks towards the doors then her watch. “You gonna be okay? I gotta get back, before she misses me.” As Faith approaches, he plops onto the nearby grass, and lies back. Staring into the blue sky, he traces out various shapes from the sparse clouds. “So Faith, what’s Kayla got on you? The way I see it, you’re either hopelessly in love with her, or she’s got something on you; and I can tell you’re not in love. So, like I said, what she got on you?”

Faith feels a nervous twitch rise, coupled with anger from being confronted out of the blue. She immediately turns around and storms towards him. With every step, her fury builds and she contemplates the kind of pain she can inflict. As she gets closer, she’s overcome by the list of procedures leading to and following a blood transfusion. Making two more steps, she is going over the recommended flow rates of a typical saline drip. Slowing down to make sense of the thoughts surging through her head, she fumbles with her words long enough for Romero to stand and resume where he left off.

“Hey I’ll make it easy for you. Just tell me to my face that you actually love her, and I’ll back off and leave you alone. That’s it! Just those simple words will get me out of your hair, forever. Anytime now, don’t hesitate, just tell me like it is.” He closes in, to await the final word; words that will demonstrate how much more he’ll have to try and win her heart. As Faith continues to pause, he’s satisfied that his evaluation of their relationship, was even closer to the mark than he’d first thought. Faith can’t believe she’s fumbling with a simple statement like this; she’s speechless and she can’t say that she loves Kayla. In her heart she knows she does, yet for some reason she’s unable to say 3 simple words. In mounting frustration, she can only reply by getting into his face and barking, “I don’t need to say anything to you! What’s between me and Kayla, is exactly that! Between me and Kayla! Not you or anybody else. GOT THAT!” Frustrated, she turns to leave, just as the gymnasium doors swing wide open. First out to see the finale, Alicia, pauses in shock to their close proximity to each other. Lenina, unaware of Alicia’s sudden halt, stumbles into her back nearly toppling the pair over, if it weren’t for a strong hand from behind. Alicia, embarrassed to having witnessed the close exchange, quickly tears away, before anyone can understand her reasons. As the class looks back and forth confused, Kayla wheels out to see Faith and Romero, now several feet apart, staring blankly at the departing class. 

 

****

 

**September 18, 2032**

**San Angeles, (6:40pm)**

 

Rustling through the deserted corridors of the sewer, Gowen leads his small party of sages through the very arteries of San Angeles. With a determined stride, he stops below a ladder leading up to the city streets. Scrounging through his belt pouch, he fishes out a tattered sheet of paper. Turning it right-side up, he reads the address one more time. To his left, his faithful assistant checks himself over once more, and rummages through his pockets. Extracting a wadded-up ball of string, a loose razor blade, he tucks them into his opposite pocket. Digging into the pocket once more, he brandishes a small green gem. A sense of satisfaction washes over him, only to transition to amazement as he notices the gem burning brightly and fading in and out slowly and rhythmically. A soft shimmering hue distorts his visage, and he flashes a toothy smile towards his cupped hand. Mumbling, Gowen looks up and down the corridor, then up towards the access cover above his head. Motioning to form a circle around him, he sits and whispers to the 3 others, “We wait until sunset. It will be safer to travel the streets to the witches residence.”

Looking to his assistant, he glares at him annoyingly and seethes: “Dumut! Put that trinket away, it is too dark down here. Someone might see that damn witch-toy light. I don’t know why you still have it. Didn’t I tell you to throw it away weeks ago?”

Defensively clamping his hand shut, Dumut protects the small gem, and hides it in his shirt pocket. In a hurt tone he pleads, “But the Shu‘Lock demon who sold it to me, said it could protect me from the murderous Child of Light! He was very adamant about that point!” Mentally he notes the intensity of the gem’s light was the greatest that he had ever seen it in recent months, if not years. Up until a few months ago, the light was a meek ember, compared to the blazing glory, now. Having walked this path countless times, over the last five years, it usually only gave off a dull spark when they were in this part of town.    

Tweela, to Gowen’s left, leans towards Dumut and smartly interjects, “He said it would ‘keep you from accidentally finding’ the Child of Light; nothing about protecting _idiots_!” She brazenly stands her ground, as Dumut starts to gather himself up to grab her. Gowen intercedes immediately by shoving him back down with a smartly placed backhanded slap across the chest. Rubbing his stinging chest Dumut looks to Gowen with a hurt expression and for an explanation.

“Enough you two!” Gowen Blasts. Looking around, he scans the surrounding area for the forces of good to charge any moment from all directions to slaughter them where sit. Confident their presence hasn’t been detected, Gowen continues by whispering: “Behave, and sit silently until sunset. GOT IT?” Dumut’s jaw drops to protest his innocence, only to be cut off again. “Not another word.”

Like a defeated animal, Dumut leans back and silently pouts, while Tweela sits Indian style and meditates with a smug grin on her chubby little face. Gowen studies the pair for a few minutes, ensuring their childish temper tantrums were ended before he too drifts into a serene meditative state. Patiently time passes as the sun slowly creeps behind the seas, to the west.

 

 Tara grabs Willow’s baby-blue sweater from the back of the gothic-styled chair and waits for its owner to depart the bathroom. Crossing the room to intercept her, Tara instead stops to stare at Kayla and Lacey sitting quietly on the couch. Lacey, flipping through the channels, pauses to acknowledge Tara’s insistent gaze. “No, mom. We aren’t planning to do _any_ magic tonight… that’s what you want to hear right?” Kayla looks away, fearing the ass-chewing to come. Tara smiles at Lacey’s smart tongue, and replies matter-of-factly: “Actually I was going to tell you both to just be good and there’s some contraband hot cocoa in the magic cabinet; but, seeing that you mentioned it, yes, DON’T DO ANY MAGIC!.. Okay sweetie?” Tara’s sweet grin stares back at Lacey, and she leans over and kisses Lacey on the forehead. Turning to Kayla, she says sternly, “And you little girl, need to get some rest for tomorrow night. You’ll need to be fully rested to remove the demon seed, and after your last get together, you both didn’t sleep for…” Tara tries to remember, but her point is well taken. Kayla reaches over and reassuringly pats Tara’s hand, and replies: “You got it b-boss.”

Shaking her head, Tara squeezes Kayla’s hand; and turns to hand the approaching Willow, her favorite blue sweater. Giving Tara a tender kiss, she leans over and kisses Lacey on the forehead, and wishes her goodnight. Patting Kayla’s hand, she says: “Now you two have been told already not to play with magic, so I don’t need to mention again, but… DON’T! Goodnight you two don’t be up too late.” Tara shakes her head brandishing a wide grin, and leads the way to the door.

No sooner had the door closed, does Lacey get up open the infamous magic cabinet, and extract a large deck of cards, easily longer than her hand. Looking to Kayla, she says: “Cards?” Assuming they are tarot cards, Kayla envisions a night of summoning and communicating with spirits of the long dead and replies: “Oh come on! You just told your moms that we’d lay off of that stuff for a while!” Fighting off a snickering laugh, Lacey leans over the back of the couch and flips the cards over, displaying a regular card deck. “I get people with that all the time! You should have seen your face…” As Lacey laughs uncontrollably, she doesn’t notice the pillow swinging through the air, striking her across the head. Losing her balance, she collapses on the floor. Deciding the floor is as good of a place as any, she continues rolling around laughing and giggling.

 

“WE’RE LOST!” Tweela exclaims. Gowen hushes her and forcibly seethes, “Shut Up! We’re not lost; we just took a wrong turn at the last intersection. The record store never had those posters of half-naked females in the windows before and I got confused. Scoffing at his response, Tweela retorts, “If you didn’t spend as much time staring at them, you might have seen where you were going!” Spinning around to face off with her, Gowen sneers and snarls at her, like a small dog flashing his teeth. Nervously looking around, Dumut looks up to see the number 5720 Elm Street Drive prominently displayed on the face of the building, three feet above his head. Trying to be heard over the rising clamor of Gowen and Tweela, Dumut slowly raises his voice to be heard. “Excuse me… uh excuse me, what was that address again… uh Master Gowen… what was…” Looking to the ever growing more anxious companion Feddle, Dumut raises hands in the air for some divine inspiration.

 

**September 18, 2032**

**San Angeles, (7:55pm)**

 

Staring across the kitchen table, Lacey shoots a piercing glance to Kayla; her eyes just peeking over the tops of the cards. The crystal green pools swallow Lacey forcing her to attack by saying: “Got any 4’s?” The contemptuous tone reaches out grasping at the small woman, seated across from her. Kayla hardly flinches, and replies sardonically, “Go… fish.” Slamming her cards down, Lacey stands cringing. Biting her lower lip, she says: “I QU…” Pausing to bite her tongue, she continues slowly, “I… gotta get a drink… thirsty?” Kayla can hardly fight the humorous smirk growing on her face. “Why yes, I’d l-love it. G-gotta pee first, b-back in a s-second.” Wheeling herself across the room, she turns left at the front door, and enters the bathroom. Lacey slams the glass down on the counter and messily pours two glasses of lemonade. Fighting the urge to glance at Kayla’s cards, she sets the glasses down on the table and quickly retreats to the living room, ensuring her curiosity won’t ruin her honor. Flexing her hands, she releases the pent up anger and counts down from ten. She suddenly stops her count at three, by an abrupt ringing from the doorbell.

With her fit of anger still dangling over her head, Lacey slams the door wide open, causing the four small cloaked figures to spring backwards, fearing for their lives. Just as surprised as they, Lacey resists the urge to jump away, and instead holds her ground barring the doorway. Looking them over, her mind races to guess more what, than who they are. She’s surprised to see the one whose legs tremble the most take a meager step forward and speak, in a mousy voice. “M-m-m Miss R-r-Rosen-burg?” Instinctively Lacey realizes that she didn’t startle them that badly and decides she must keep control of the situation or it could turn bad right away. With a dark and diabolic tone, she groans, “Yesss.” The effect immediately overcomes the shorter one to the speaker’s right and he shakes horribly, cowering behind the speaker, burying his hands in his pockets. The speaker stammers on, desperate to find some courage floating sporadically through the air. “M-my name is Gowen. I represent a private investor who’s interested in purchasing a set of scrolls, which we believe you possess. They are called the Alticia scrolls, after the third century wit…” Gowen bites his tongue before he finishes the word witch. “Wise woman and scholar Alticia. Our research has led us to your door step, as being the current holder of the six scroll set.” Stepping forward, Gowen’s features are clearly seen in the light, and Lacey’s instincts proved correct. These creatures are known as Keebles; they are shrewd negotiators, who exploit any and all opponents they believe are lesser than them. They will only work for worthy and powerful demons that can afford their adept talents. To show any weakness or fear, is to sign your own death warrant. When they take a job, it’s guaranteed to be completed.

Lacey dramatically poses by brining her finger to the side of her lip, mentally going over the scroll inventory. “I’m not sure. I might or might not. I’ll have to get back to you on it.” She’s prevented from continuing by the cowardly assistant blurting out defiantly, “OUR research says that you…” He’s viciously cut off by Lacey, who snarls: “I SAID I MIGHT OR MIGHT NOT!” Returning to a more pleasant disposition, she continues, “And after I check my inventory lists, I’ll be certain. How much are we willing to pay for these RARE and EXPENSIVE scrolls, which could be my most valued and treasured items of my entire library?” Gowen once again stammers his response. “M-my employer is willing to reimburse you quite handsomely the sum of 500 Swedish-gold ingots, weighing seven point five ounces each; payable upon delivery, of course.”

Mulling over the kind of money at stake, Lacey shrewdly sneers, “That should be adequate, but only after I review my inventory sheet, can I agree to that price. Come back this time next week, and I’ll give you my final answer.” This time Tweela speaks out of turn, to Gowen’s surprise. “NEXT WEEK! Are you serious! Our mission is of utmost…” Dumut’s hand wraps around her gaping mouth, silencing her before she can finish another word. Gowen manages a meager smile and laughs, “That would be wonderful! Next week is beautiful! I’ll be here on time, then. Thank you, most beautiful and wise lady. Good evening to you, we’ll be leaving now. It’s been an honor to have met you… good night. Dragging the kicking and screaming Tweela, Dumut and Gowen pin her to the wall, out of sight of Lacey’s door. As Tweela imagines the pain and suffering she’s going to inflict upon the pitiful creature once known as Dumut, he extends his right hand forward before her face. Her anger washes away to a mixture of fear and revelation, as Dumut’s chubby little hands blossoms to reveal the small green gem flashing like a strobe-light on speed; and as brilliant as the midday sun. Her snarling visage contorts to form a diabolic smile. 

 

**September 19, 2032**

**San Angeles, (6:50am)**

           

            “And they were willing to pay that much for it huh? I better reevaluate the value of those scrolls before I let them go.” Willow surmises casually. Cradling a steaming cup of tea, she wanders to the bedroom and watches Tara and Lacey empty a mammoth wooden cabinet, filled with leather-bound books and rolled of sheets of paper. “Have you found them yet sweetie?” Tara leans back against the bed, unscrewing an old wooden scroll case, as wide as her neck. To her surprise, the top is extremely difficult to remove, and only after a solid tug, a slight hiss of air presents itself and the top comes easily away. Impressed with the craftsmanship she whistles under her breath saying, “Wow, don’t make them like they use to.” Sliding the contents out, she unravels the first scroll and breezes through it, announcing finally: “Got it!” Lacey immediately shovels the contents of the cabinet back in, while Willow comes along side Tara as she tries to decipher the writing. Lacey, unable to make heads or tails of the scroll, looks at her watch and immediately jumps up and picks up her jacket.  

            Scratching their heads, they unravel the rest, hoping to gain some glimmer of insight. Lacey, noticing the time, she picks herself up and rushes out the door with her jacket in hand. “Got to run mom! Talk to you two later!” Waving to her as she leaves, the pair resumes their studies fearing that little progress can be made. 

 

**September 19, 2032**

**San Angeles, (2:35pm)**

**San Angeles Police Department Open Gymnasium #3**

 

            Wrapping up Kayla’s afternoon class, Faith towels herself off and is confronted by Officer Alicia Green. “Hey, are you going to offer Kayla’s advanced class on Saturday nights?” Puzzled, Faith thinks back, but can’t seem to remember hearing about it. Taken aback, Faith asks, “What Saturday class? She never mentioned it to me.” Biting her lower lip, Alicia grimaces and spins around to leave Faith standing alone in the gym.

 

**September 19, 2032**

**San Angeles, (7:30pm)**

# Elm Wood Apartments

 

            Gently closing the main bedroom door, Lacey tiptoes to the kitchen, joins her two mothers, and slides into a chair. “She’s out like a baby. The sleep potion did the trick. Now Faith is going to be here, right?” Willow nods deeply and replies: “Absolutely. She said she had to go to the cemetery first thing and make sure that the waitress who was killed a few nights ago isn’t going to rise, and she should be back here by nine.” Reaching out to squeeze Tara’s hand she asks: “You ready to change sweetie?” Tara responds by nodding her head, and rising from the table. “About 9:15, you and Faith will join us in the circle, and that should be enough to break its mental tethers on Kayla. That will leave you and I the nasty task of cutting the little bugger out of her. It should already be trying to tear itself free, we’ll just be helping it to vacate the premises. And, if all goes well, she’ll be at 200% by this time tomorrow.” Looking around her family of witches, Willow encourages a big group hug before she turns to change in the bathroom.

           

**September 19, 2032**

**San Angeles, (7:35pm)**

**San Angeles City Cemetery #3**

 

            Hastily jogging to the rear of the cemetery, Faith juggles her tumultuous feelings for both Kayla and Romero. Torn between a deep love for one, and possibly some of the best sex she’s had in a long time; she can’t help to feel remorseful of her feelings for him, while still saying she’s devoted to Kayla. Longing for a deep physical relationship, she can’t quite quench her thirst with Kayla anymore. Not having the nerve to tell that to her face, she fights the nagging urges to satisfy the physical longing. Furthermore, she contemplates how Romero how often he’s tried to get her in bed: at least twice a week. She’s politely passed on every one of his advances, and never let it interfere with their working relationship, to her surprise. She misses the old days with Kayla: the rigorous training sessions, the love-making following the training sessions, long nights of dusting vampires from sunset to sunrise, the long days of raw sex, until they pass out from exhaustion: the good ole days.

             Straddling the recently deceased’s pale tombstone of Gina McGower, Faith patiently waits the final moments of sunset to release the caged animal. As if the setting sun shrieked and convulsed setting in the Pacific Ocean, the soft dirt erupts and explodes with a pair of feminine hands punching through. Grasping for a handhold, Faith sighs and reaches down and yanks Gina out of the ground. Surprised, Gina is taken back by Faith’s assistance. “Well, thank you very much friend! My name is Gina. I can’t seem to remember how I got down there, though; but thanks for getting me out of that jam. Uh… I hate to be a bother, but could do one more thing for me?” Faith smiles and replies politely, “Sure thing, what cha’ need?” She lets Gina get dangerously close letting her lay her hand onto her shoulder for support, while Faith subtly dislodges the wooden stake from behind her back. Gina continues as she looms within inches of Faith. “I just need a little something from you. It won’t hurt… much.” Has her face takes on an unholy visage, her expression shifts from hungry predator to painful shock and pain. Exploding into a cloud of dust, Gina ceases to exist. Swatting away the dust, Faith tucks the stake into the back of her belt, and turns to face off with two fresh vampires. Raising her hands to shoulder level, she cautions the pair. “Now lets get some ground rules established, first. What she just tried to pull isn’t going to work with me. Next, begging for mercy or pity won’t get you anywhere either; you’ll just piss me off, and I’ll have to kill you sooner than later. Lastly, you both have the option to lie down, so I can dust you in a quick orderly fashion, but you two look too stupid for that. You’ll probably just charge forward, hoping to overpower me…” As she tries to finish her sentence, the pair scream and run towards her. Shaking her head in disapproval, Faith mutters, “Why can’t I ever finish that line…” Leaping up into the air, Faith throws her foot in the path of the first, and grabs a hold of the second. Whipping the entangled vamp around once, she tosses him right into the first vampire, still cupping his face from her kick. Faith says insistently, “As I was saying, BUT that never works.” She decides to stride towards the tumbling pair in a cross fashion. Reconsidering their predicament, the pair looks to each other and then to the approaching woman. Scrambling up, they decide that survival has better odds running away from her. Cursing under her breath, Faith puts on the speed to intercept the demonic pair.

 

**September 19, 2032**

**San Angeles, (7:45pm)**

**San Angeles City Cemetery #1**

 

            Running full speed, the second vampire sees freedom finally at hand as he’s only twenty-five feet from the northern wall of the cemetery. Knowing he can easily jump over the eight-foot wall he confidently scans for the slayer’s pursuit. With no signs of her at all, he gloats having outwitted and outran the famed Vampire Slayer. With a surge of power, he leaps into the air high enough to pass easily over the wall. As his foot nears the top edge of the wall, his eyes widen in terror as another person comes leaping from the opposite side of the wall. Extending a hand as she passes, the wooden stake sinks into his chest, and Faith passes unscathed to inside the cemetery. Landing on her feet, Faith turns around to watch the dust of the last vampire dissipate and settle over the wall. With a Cheshire grin, Faith looks at her watch, and stops the timer. Whistling a surprised tone, she mutters: “Nine minutes, forty-three seconds. I’m gettin’ sloppy.” Toggling the actual time, she notices she has over an hour to burn before she has to be at the Rosenburg’s. Leaving the cemetery, she walks several blocks, to find the main street busy and alive with the people of San Angeles, completely oblivious to the scary truth she burdens to carry. A loud horn nearby causes her to throw her attention to the busy street beside her. A stray dog, having dodged a number of cars, carelessly finishes crossing the street oblivious to the potential accidents it could have caused. As Faith turns her head forward, collides with another pedestrian, arms loaded down with fast food and groceries. Cursing under her breath, she looks down to see herself covered from the chest down with mixed fruit soda, and tofu burger. As a mild rage builds, she’s surprised to be inundated with thoughts of proper nutrition, health care, and woodworking. As she bites her tongue, she looks up to see an even more apologetic Romero looking up from the disaster covering both of them. “I’m SOOO sorry miss, I was distracted by that stupid dog… Oh Faith! So we run into each other once again?” Faith bites her lower lip, and starts laughing. The laughter becomes contagious, and soon they are caught up in the energy. As the laughter dissipates, they both stoop down to gather and clean up the mess. With the bag destroyed, Faith cups half the groceries in her arms, while he carries the remainder in his. Walking a short block down the street, they arrive at a small single story apartment, Romero calls home. As the uncomfortable silence looms over them, Romero breaks the ice by asking: “So, got a few minutes? I have some extra t-shirts and sweat pants you can borrow. No need to walk around town looking like that.” Faith’s little alarm goes off, yet she somehow ignores it. Probably from the whiff of the burger and fruit drink, that’s all it takes to seriously consider his offer. Faith takes a deep breath and says, “Ok, but only for a minute. I have a previous engagement that I can’t be late to. Cool?” Smiling Romero nods, and welcomes her inside, locking the door behind him.

 

            Tossing and turning, Faith finally resigns to waking her bed companion. Snuggling up to Romero’s back, she playfully nibbles at his neck and reaches over to massage his reawakening member. With a devious smile he asks, “Again? You’re a fuck’in animal! Okay Killer.” To Faith’s delight, he forcibly yanks her up, tosses her back onto the bed, face down, towards the foot of the bed. Scooting her rear end up in the air, she gasps as he drives his member into her. Faith’s eyes roll momentarily back, and she groans wantonly as he pulls out to repeat the process with a maniacal pace. Faith’s orgasm crashes onto her, only mark the sudden building of her second, even greater orgasm. With Romero showing no break in his pace, he pummels her fiery sex and smartly brings his hand across her rear. The thrill of his piston-like action and the tingling burn from his hand, throw Faith over into her second orgasm. Gulping down air, she begins thrusting backwards to meet his pace, she glows as her third consecutive orgasm builds.

            On a particularly powerful thrust from Romero, she throws her head back up only to lock eyes with Kayla standing emotionless in the doorway. Clad in a hospital gown, she stares at Faith, as if waiting for Faith to say something first. Faith’s jaw drops open, searching for any appropriate words, but Kayla silences her by bringing a single finger up to her own lips. Faith’s jaw twitches with remorse and she wants to beg for Kayla’s forgiveness; instead Kayla only motions for Faith to follow out the room. Climbing off the bed, Faith looks back to see Romero lying down and drifting off to sleep. Grasping Kayla’s extended hand, Faith lets her be led around the corner to see Romero’s living room replaced with an expansively dark chasm. Before her stand thousands of demons, vampires, and creatures, gathered around a great altar, chanting in unison. Either unaware or uncaring to her presence, they huddle together awaiting some great evil being’s arrival. Faith, in her nudeness, looks to Kayla and whispers: “What are they waiting for? Who or what is it?”

            Retaining her lifeless expression, she pivots around and points in the direction they came. Spinning around on the heels of her police-issue boots, Faith finds herself looking at a pair of steel doors in a circular, torch-lit room. Quite large, the room’s ceiling is nearly twenty feet high and a hundred feet across. Imagining the chill in the room, she starts to shiver; to her surprise she discovers she’s now dressed in her police uniform, minus the over-shirt. Surveying the room, she turns to Kayla to elaborate; only to be silenced by the appearance of a number of shadows moving erratically thru the room. Transparent at first, the shapes fly thru the room at lightning speeds. Becoming more visually substantial as time passes, she realizes they’re walking and moving backwards. Just when she begins to think they are completely solid, the room suddenly empties. Frustrated, she looks around anxiously for something to happen.

Bursting thru the pair of heavy doors, the thunderous clopping of hooves deafens her, and a demon, likened only to the appearance of Satan himself, shoots towards the opposite end of the room. With deep crimson skin, hoofed feet, black horns adorning his brow, and a wicked barbed tail, the demon was the personification of evil on this world. Swishing his tail left and right in annoyance, he looks around for any escape routes, and sees no where to go. As Faith struggles to stay calm from the intense fear radiating from the nine-foot tall creature, the creature turns around to face its pursuers. Bleeding from numerous wounds across its arms, legs, and chest, it breathes heavily. Letting loose a defiant roar, he waits for the imminent arrival of the heroes. The wait is only momentary, as a feisty voice rings out from the doorway: “If you make us chase you down one more corridor or skanky cave, you’ll only piss us off more!” Confidently stepping thru the threshold, Buffy Summers, brandishing a short Roman sword, charismatically leads an assortment of heroes.

            Approving of Buffy’s choice of matching black leather pants, boots, and duster, Faith hoots out: “All right ‘B’! Now we’re talking…” Faith pauses mid-sentence as three of the Scooby-gang enter, all matching Buffy. Stepping up to Buffy’s right, Angel stoically stretches his neck and shoulders, preparing for the coming fight and carrying an ornate long sword. To Buffy’s left, Xander slides in toting a weighty crossbow. Resting it across on his left arm, Faith admits to it being one of his rare moments of staunch bravado. One step behind Xander, Anya rigidly struts up to his left brandishing one of the few items to avoid confiscation by the Initiative: a blaster. The demon shifts nervously as he closely studies the heroes as they enter, as if looking for someone in particular.

            As Faith starts to gain a better vantage point near the door, the last of the Scooby’s make their entrance. Leading the pack, Giles confidently strides in, carrying a long double bladed axe across his shoulders; Faith barely recognizes him without his glasses. “Wow! Not too shabby old man; I always knew you’d look hot in leather.” No sooner does she finish her sentence, than the final three members make their entrance together. Twisting the current fashion trend to a more Wiccan touch, Willow sets the new trend with a short black-leather skirt, black stockings, and thigh-high boots. Thrusting her shoulders back, the long black duster conceals Willow’s feminine white silk blouse, with drawstrings holding the front together, down the middle. Stepping up to Willow’s right, Tara surveys the situation and tries to get used to wearing the new look, with some confidence. Smiling to Willow, Tara beams a smile and mouths the words: I love you. No sooner does she return the words, as the third Wiccan stops to Willow’s left. Almost precisely matching the other two witches, she adorns her neck with numerous necklaces and medallions. Willow turns to her and asks, “You ready Amy?” Nodding her head in approval, she slips several small pouches off her belt and palms them. In unison, the three start chanting and begin casting a powerful containment spell. The air suddenly thickens and becomes motionless. Tense moments pass, only broken finally by the slamming close of the dual steel doors.

            Laughter suddenly erupts from the cornered demon, his toothy smile masks any hint of fear. He bellows, “PATHETIC! A mere vampire slayer, a vampire, and a handful of mortal humans expect to stop me? A demon prince!” His concussive laughter resumes, cut short by Buffy; somehow her smug voice penetrates his folly. “I’d normally ask you first to surrender and return to your host dimension; but I’ve put up with too much of your shit already to let you off that easy. Besides, you’re way too ugly to just pass off to some other loser filled dimension, so the buck stops here!”

            The demon’s laughter resumes and resonates through everyone’s core. His retort echoes thru the room. “If you were that damned Brat of Light, I might be worried right about now. Hell, I might even have reason to take this battle seriously. Instead I find myself contemplating who’s going to be on the top of my list… my ‘who I’m going to scrog first’ list!” Looking directly at Buffy, he fires, “And by the way sweet cheeks, you’re only halfway up; so don’t believe for a moment that I wouldn’t waste a scrawny thing like you.”

            Faith stands back in awe as her old friends and once adversaries, charge the hideous creature. Axes are swung, guns fire, claws slash, bolts of steel and light fly across the gloomy cave, and blood falls. In a desperate show of might, the demon launches itself into the air and tucks itself in a large fleshy ball. Wrapping its wings around itself, it crashes into the ground and bounces towards the mass of armed heroes, scattering them like bowling pins. Not slowing, he suddenly bounces the opposite direction, accelerating towards the small coven. Forced to change their spell selection, Willow is barely able to mouth the spell before he strikes her quickly assembled barrier. For a split second, Faith believes the barrier will hold; but to her dismay a thunderous crack shakes the foundation and he rockets thru the decimated barrier. Willow, too stunned to order her legs to move, can only watch helplessly as the demon shoots towards her. Two heartbeats later, she feels herself yanked hard to her right, barley getting clear of the gargantuan demon ball. Easily missing Willow, the demon turns its attention to its true target.

            Tara breathes a heavy sigh of relief, only to have it turn to horror as she witnesses Amy’s disembowelment from a swipe of the demon’s claws. With an evil giggle, it rolls away unscathed and catapults itself back to its starting point; leaving Amy crumpled up on the floor, dieing in a pool of blood. Standing erect, it relishes the feel of Amy’s warm blood covering his claws, and spends several moments licking the claws clean of her blood. As Buffy reorganizes her team, Willow rushes to her fallen friend to cradle her head in her lap. Tilting her head closer to Amy’s lips, she grasps her final words to cherish. Willow’s tears suddenly halt as Amy’s words change and become dark. A sudden gasp escapes her lips, and a dark aura surrounds Willow. As Tara moves to Willow’s side, she skids to a halt as Willow rises with opaque eyes and surrounded by an electrical field. Faith feels an evil presence inside Willow, and steps back in a mixture fear and awe. The demon, busy sucking his claws clean, only has time to lift his head up before the first blast knocks him to the wall. As he shakes off the first blast, he’s blasted by a second and third electrical blast. Buffy barks out to Xander who scoops up his heavy crossbow and lands a bolt in the bony part of the demon’s right wing. A gruesome scream issues forth, and Xander sends a second bolt into his other wing, effectively pinning him to the wall. Still flailing his arms around hoping to skewer one of the heroes, the demon feels agonizing pain rip through his arm. Looking down, he notices his clawed hand tumble across the floor, and Giles grinning, and says: “Lose something dear chap?”

            A horrible scream from Tara causes Giles to spin around to investigate the commotion, only to have his heart tremble and sink. From between the beast’s legs, Giles follows the Demon’s long barbed tail to where it passes through the abdomen of his dearest slayer. Buffy stares at it in shocked disbelief, and can’t seem to register the fact that it’s a fatal blow. Leaning close to Giles, the demon sardonically seethes: “OY! Chap! Lose something you dumb bloke. If you liked that, you’re gonna love this.” Yanking his tail back towards himself with Buffy in tow, he draws her in, only to horrifically kick her off the end of his tail. Absorbing the pain of countless barbs being sheared off his tail, he grunts painfully and watches Buffy catapulted away from him, depositing most of her innards across the floor. Landing fifteen feet away, Buffy hits with a grotesque thud, splattering blood and guts in all directions. Even as the ground trembles, the ceiling collapses, and the entire world is torn asunder. The Demon has the image of a broken shell of a man, Giles witnessing the slaughter of the girl who he would have called his daughter, an image he will take with him to the next world. When the final decapitating blow is delivered, the demon welcomes it, having dealt a blow, which can never be equaled in this lifetime.

            As the scene transitions into a transparency, Faith looks to Kayla asking: “What does this mean? Is he the one that’s coming? How can he, they killed him! Shaking her head in disagreement, Kayla stretches her right arm and hand out and her head drops to her feat. Faith, taken back by the gesture, follows Kayla’s line of sight, to see she’s standing in a small pool of blood. Concern washes over Faith, as she follows the bright red blood back up, flowing from between Kayla’s legs.     

            Jumping up out of bed, Faith wakens to see Romero lying naked beside her. Looking at her in surprise, he says, “You okay? I know you said you had a previous engagement, but I didn’t have the heart to wake you. You had such a serious expression on your face when you were asleep, was it a bad dream?” Shaking her head, she jumps to grab her watch and sees the time. Faith hisses loudly, “SHIT! I’m going to be late!” Not wanting to put back on her old sticky smelly clothes, she finds her underwear and slides them back on. Throwing on the Romero’s police issue workout clothes, Faith shoots out of the apartment, with tears streaming from her eyes. Romero, confused, gathers up Faith’s dirty clothes and decides to wash them for her, resigning to personally return them tomorrow.

 

**September 19, 2032**

**San Angeles, (9:15pm)**

# Elm Wood Apartments

 

            Franticly pacing back and forth in the living room, Lacey curses under her breath and looks one more time at her watch. Fuming under her collar, she tries counting backwards but no avail. Peeking inside the bedroom, she catches a glimpse of Kayla’s painful grimaces and mild convulsions. Tara catches Lacey’s attention and Lacey raises her hands to the air and shrugs. As she prepares to start without Faith, the door chimes and she rushes to open the door. Letting Faith pass by, Lacey fights from giving her a piece of her mind. Looking down, she starts to ask why she changed, but realizes that the clothes are at least two sizes too big. Faith opens her mouth to explain, but Lacey silences her by raising her finger. “First! I don’t want to hear it. Second, Kayla needed you here half an hour ago when the seed decided to fight back. The little bastard got smart to what we were doing and decided to move around to keep us from removing him. And to top it off, it tightened its noose around Kayla, by threatening her vital brain functions. It has no problem sacrificing its host to ensure its own survival.”

            Motioning for her to change, she leads her to the bathroom and tosses her a robe. In minutes, she’s ushering Faith into the bedroom, to reveal Kayla sweating profusely, and crying. Positioning Faith beside Kayla’s head, Lacey moves to between Kayla’s legs along side Tara. Donning a matching set of computer display glasses, Tara issues the final instructions to everyone. Willow, devoting all of her concentration countering the seed’s mental grasp, continues breathing rhythmically. “Lacey when we open up her cervix, the little monster will know that we’re making our final move on him. The little seed won’t be any bigger than a Lima bean or almond; but the spell I cast, will make it stand out like a sore thumb.” Looking up to Faith, Tara continues. “Now Faith, its essential that you keep her mentally grounded. Your words alone are probably all she can hear, or acknowledge.” Nodding, Faith takes a deep breath and falls into an overwhelming trance. Within minutes, her mind is swimming and her eyes flutter shut.   

            Feeling alone and helpless, Faith cranks her eyes open and surveys her new surroundings. Kneeling, she pans her head around and is surprised to see and feel dank cold tile floors under her feet. As she opens her mouth to call out, Willow’s voice rings out: “Find her quickly, she’s getting weaker. The Demon is trying to hide her from you, but it can’t throw anything lethal at you like guns or missiles; it has to physically touch you to do anything. It can inflict great pain and suffering, but it can only kill you if you let it destroy you.” Confused, Faith wants Willow to explain herself, but is cut off before she can ask. “I’m not going to be able to help you in there; it’s taking everything I got to keep it from killing either of you, as it is. I know you can do this; and if you love her, this will be quick and easier than you think. NOW HURRY!”

            Frustrated, Faith exhales forcibly and steers blindly up the dark corridor. Her head, still spinning from her encounter with Romero less than an hour ago, tries to right itself on the task ahead. Aghast with the idea that she violated Kayla’s trust and love, she can’t imagine how she could ever be trusted again. Worse, she has to tear Kayla away from some insidious creature, leeching off her. Turning a corner, she’s suddenly confronted with a brick wall. She turns to go back, only to remember Willow’s previous words. Closing her eyes, she disbelieves that the wall really exists, gathers her strength, and strides towards the wall.

            Half expecting to smack face first into the wall, she’s a little surprised that the impact never occurs. Popping her eyes open, she thrilled to see Kayla sitting crunched-up in a corner of a sterile hospital room. Devoid of any furniture, the blinding whitewashed room blares with light from the overhead fluorescent bulbs. A noticeable hum vibrates thru the air, and Faith guesses from the lights above. Trying to notice any traps, she can only see the lonely Kayla curled up quietly in the corner. Shaking off a chill running down her back, Faith slowly steps towards Kayla. Noticing the eerie hospital attire Kayla wears, Faith recalls the coincidental appearance from her waking dream less than an hour ago.

            As she dismisses most of her initial fear, she quickens her pace towards her hunched over girlfriend. Whispering, she hisses: “Kayla honey. We’ve got to go!” Kayla’s only reaction is drawing her knees closer into her body, and defensively tucking her face down. Perplexed by her behavior, she cautiously approaches Kayla. Surveying her surroundings, Faith can’t discern anything unusual about Kayla or the wall she’s resting against. Deciding that the danger is less than she initially believed, Faith cautiously approaches Kayla from her far right side. As her eyes try to focus on the shadows surrounding Kayla, a quick movement next to her neck disturbs a gray lock of hair; the lock swings pendulous on an otherwise motionless Kayla. Tensing, Faith cautiously squats down beside Kayla. Hoping to get a better look at what had moved, she uses her pinky to scoop aside Kayla’s hair from her face, and tucks the locks behind her ear. Horror slithers up her spine as she unveils countless sickly-green tendrils worming and convulsing around Kayla’s frail neck. Pulsing rhythmically, they immediate react to Faith’s presence by tightening their grip and retreating from Faith’s examination. As Faith leans over to track the source of the tendrils, Kayla suddenly strikes out with an open hand, and lands her palm square in Faith’s chest. Tumbling end over end, Faith skids to a stop twenty feet away gripping her chest. Gasping, she rubs her sternum and is surprised she is still breathing and her heart pumping. Knowing Kayla could have easily stopped her heart with that blow, she looks up to see that Kayla had resumed her crouched pose in the corner. Faith scrambles off the floor and storms towards Kayla only to stop in her tracks by a raspy voice emitted by Kayla. “Get away from me you whore.”

            Faith’s hair stands on end, sensing the vile and putrid malevolence behind the voice, further angering Faith. The thought of Kayla being manipulated and controlled by such an evil presence, drives her forward, ignoring the obvious danger. Standing confidently, she barks her reply. “I’m not going anywhere without Kayla, minus whatever is on her, of course.” She doesn’t have to wait long for the evil voice to reply thru Kayla. Seething it hoarsely replies: “Who do you think you are, to speak to me like that? Answer me this cunt! Did you remember to wipe yourself clean before you came here, or do you get-off feeling man-juice drying between your legs, whore?”

            The insightful wisdom the demon possesses burns at Faith, causing her to step back instinctively. Snickering, Kayla continues. “Tell me, is my disfigurement and disability so bad that you seek out a surrogate lover, or is he just one of your convenient lays who’ll bend you over and mount you like a bitch in heat?” Is that it!? You’re assembling a new ‘Fun-boy’ list for when I’m not quite what you feel like having?”

            Faith feels her confidence and control melt away. Fighting back the rolling tears, she feels her chest ache, and her body shakes uncontrollably. The bitter truth is a painful blow and she fumbles for the right words. “That’s not how it is! He was just onetime mistake; I was just being polite and I don’t know what happened… one thing led to another. We were just …” A sneering Kayla finishes Faith’s sentence. “…Working off the heat between your legs, you mean! Filthy whore! You’ve never been committed to making the two of us a couple. Oh you like me as a trophy to show off to your superiors, but never out in public. You’re embarrassed to be seen with your broken toy. You must see me as a relic of your past: a worn out and useless relic that you’ve grown out of. I bet you can’t stand looking at my body! The same body that endured weeks of torture, rape, and endless beatings just to protect you in prison. I fought off rape gangs while you slept, and picked you up when you lacked the will to stand. For what!? When I need you to be my steady arm to hold or the one to guide me through my darkest hour, you BAIL! You GOD DAMN BITCH!!!”

            As tears stream from her eyes, Faith hears a small bell go off in her head, giving her a glimmer of hope and confidence. Wiping her eyes clear, she closes with the chuckling Kayla. Using the flame boiling in her heart, she storms over to the hunched over Kayla, yanks her up by her gown, and pins her against the wall. For the first time since she arrived, Kayla was showing the first signs of fear. Faith, keeping it guessing, clamps her free hand around Kayla’s throat and slowly increases the pressure of her grip. Bringing herself nose to nose with her, Faith stares her down with staunch determination and seethes: “You know, for a second , you almost had me. You could have stopped and silently let the truth burn inside me, but you just had to try for the final killing blow. And you couldn’t stop gloating, could you. Well, if you were really Kayla, you would have never have said two words. Two little words gave you away. You see, Kayla was never a very religious church-going gal, but had a staunch belief that certain words should never be uttered or thought. I never understood it, but we had some nasty fights because of my foul mouth. And let me tell you, the words God Damn, are the two words she’d never, in her life, say together. Hell, I doubt she’d even think the words; so when you had to take that last shot at me, you blew it.” Faith suddenly tightens her grip around the throat and moves her hand from the gown to grab a hold of the multitude of tendrils wrapped around Kayla’s neck. With her slayer strength, Faith rips the thin tendrils to pieces with a firm yank. An unholy shriek reverberates thru the room as the tendrils spurt brackish blood and lose their moorings around Kayla’s neck and throat. With determined zeal, she tears away all the exposed tendrils and lets them fall to her feat, wriggling and trembling in their final death throws. Sensing the evil still lingering, she searches Kayla head to toe, but is lost trying to find the source. As she looks around she has a sudden awareness of truth. With almost x-ray vision, she sees thru the hospital gown and smiles knowingly. Thrusting her hand up the gown, she latches onto the hard carapace of the creature nestled over Kayla’s heart. Digging her fingers under it, she locks her grip and pulls with all her strength. Fighting to hold on, the creature wails horribly thru Kayla, letting loose a deafening shrill. Moments later, Faith holds in front of her a helpless creature, flailing its torn and broken tentacles spastically. With a triumphant grin, she turns to the semi-conscious Kayla, hanging in the grip of her other hand. Her heart nearly stops until Kayla finally flutters her eyes open weakly. Weak and tired, Kayla musters the strength to let a smile creep across her face, and mouth ‘Thank you’ silently.

            Pulling out of the telepathic link with Faith and Kayla, Willow screams out to Tara and Lacey, “She’s free! Get it out!”

            Not waiting to be told twice, Lacey draws the blade across the final two tendrils and quickly extracts the almond-sized creature. Dropping it into the sacrificial urn, she immediately stabs it with the silver knife causing it to erupt and spew forth a wisp of black acrid smoke. The smoke momentarily hovers around the small creature and disperses, erasing any trace of its presence, and forever ending its malignant existence. Shaking off the effects of the spell, Lacey reaches over and opens her paramedic kit. Running a hand-held scanner over Kayla’s belly and crotch, she’s amazed to see the incisions she’d made minutes ago, closed up, and healing rapidly. Finding the strength to stand, she stretches her legs and leans against the wall and whispers reassuringly, “She’s going to make it.”

 

            Emerging from the shower, Faith pauses at Willow’s bedroom door. Peeking in, she can’t take her eyes off the restfully sleeping form of Kayla. Unable to take her eyes off her, she stands at the doorway transfixed by her serene beauty. A tear rolls down her cheek, as she thinks how she almost threw it all away. Lost to her thoughts, she doesn’t notice Lacey come behind her brandishing her remote scanner, taking Kayla’s vitals from the doorway. In a low whisper she rubs Faith’s shoulder and says, “All of her vitals are either back to normal or better. She’s just bouncing back with leaps and bounds.” Closing the door behind Faith, she leads her to the living room and passes Willow and Tara sleeping restfully on the loveseat. Grabbing a light blanket from the closet, Lacey carefully lays it across her mothers, and starts collecting a few things as she prepares to leave. As Faith finds the recliner, Willow awakens and groggily asks if everything is all right. With a reassuring smile Lacey says: “A-okay. Doing better than I could have imagined, actually. I was afraid that we might have had to rush her to the emergency room after we were done, but she’s recovering at an astonishing rate. Is she like a slayer too?”

            Faith seems to reluctantly reply. “Nah, she’s just one of your run of the mill karate chicks. Nothing more, nothing less. So, do you think I can take her home, or what? I think she’d prefer to sleep in her own bed.” Taken back by her quick change, Lacey pauses and replies, “I don’t see why not. She’s doing great, so I’ll just take an overnight bag and I’ll camp out there all weekend. I prefer to lean on the safe side, so it’ll be better if I were hanging around her at least until she awakens. I’ll go grab a few things and I’ll be right back.” Standing, she quickly departs and carefully closes the door, making little noise whatsoever.

            As silence blankets the room, Faith loses herself to her thoughts. Minutes pass, and she instinctively raises her head to catch Willow staring coldly at her. Trying to ignore the chilling gaze, she looks left and right avoiding eye contact, to no avail. Fidgeting in her seat, Faith ends the standoff by barking: “What?” Unshaken by Faith, Willow coldly replies, “You know what? I saw and heard everything in there. No one else might have, including Kayla, but _I_ did. You were talking to the demon and I doubt she’ll remember any of your conversation with it. Don’t try and deny what you did, I know the truth. So, answer me, _why_?”

            With her nervousness increasing rapidly, her heart skyrockets and the first trickles of sweat bead on her forehead. Unable or unwilling to face the truth, she stands and storms towards the door. As she opens the door to the bedroom, she feels compelled to turn and face Willow. Shaking with emotion she swallows and replies. “I don’t know why I did it… and I can’t face myself, to say the least her. I have no idea what she sees in me, to continue to put up with my crap.” Wiping away the stray tears, she carefully dresses Kayla and carries her to their van.


	4. Part 4

# Part 4

 

**September 20, 2032**

**San Angeles, (10:00am)**

 

            Rising from her bed, Kayla looks around the room with a sleep soaked eyes, and pauses; waiting for the return of the most annoying sound she could imagine this morning. Unfortunately, the spine cringing sound of the doorbell erupts once again. Exhaling sharply, she slips up her robe, and slides herself into her motorized chair, next to the bed. Silently thanking Faith for leaving the chair at the foot of the bed, she ties and tucks the robe in place before leaving the bedroom. Wheeling herself up to the door, she commands the door to open, to face Officer Romero carrying a plastic bag. Wearily she asks, “C-can I help you Officer R-Romero?”

            Not too surprised by having Kayla answer the door he smiles confidently, leans against the doorframe, and futilely pours on his lethal charm. “Yes actually. Is Faith here, I wanted to return some stuff she left at my place last night. She was in a hurry to get dressed, and she forgot some of her clothes.” He almost sneers when he says the last part, ebbing Kayla into a confrontation. Extending her hand out, Kayla responds dispassionately. “Sh-she’s not here now, she stepped out for a minute. I imagine she went to the market to grab some stuff for breakfast…” Kayla’s worn and hurt expression, now bordering on tears, slowly begins to shift and edge towards some heightened awareness. Slowly she continues, “…but I’ll take them if that’s all you came for.” Kayla’s facial expression suddenly shifts to jubilant surprise, thoroughly confusing Romero. He looks at her peculiarly, and carefully hands her the bag of underwear, on top of the cleaned and dried pants, and shirt. His confusion obviously washes across his face, blowing away whatever edge or intention of a direct confrontation with Kayla. Not passing up the opportunity, she continues. “WOW, she’ll really appreciate you cleaning all of her stuff too. She’s a very busy girl, you know, and we had a very long night, last night.” Brandishing a huge grin, she lurches her chair momentarily forward to watch Romero jump backwards with fear and total confusion. With his entire plan diffused and sinking like the Titanic, he can only watch Kayla ignore his ebbing. She pushes him back out the door; and brandishing an enormous grin, she says, “Thank you for stopping by, I’ll let her know you came by. Be well Officer Romero!” Shutting the door in his face, Kayla throws her arms up in victory, and spins out towards the bathroom.

 

            Struggling with a pair of grocery bags, Faith falls through the doorway, and carefully sets the bags down besides the couch. Closing the door, she carries the bags into the kitchen and puts away the milk and eggs. Trying to keep the noise down, she puts the rest of the groceries and shopping bags away. Peeling off her sweatshirt, she tosses it onto the couch and kicks off her tennis shoes. Feeling at ease in just her sports bra and underwear, she drops her sweat pants and sets them across the back of the couch. With a mischievous grin, she opens the bedroom door only to have her smile deflate before an empty bed. Looking around she hears the sloshing of water, drawing her towards the bathroom. With her silver mane drenched and swept back, Kayla meticulously lathers her arms and hands. Paying equal attention to the rest of her body, Faith leans against the doorframe as Kayla continues to wash her chest and defunct legs. After emptying the tub and rinsing herself off, she smiles and says: “Are you just going to stand there or hand me a towel?” Faith snickers slightly, grabs the towel off the toilet, and steps towards dripping Kayla. She starts to hand the towel to her, but pulls it out of Kayla’s reach at the last second, saying: “But I like seeing you like this…” Cutting Faith off, Kayla leans forward and asks, “Shivering, cold, and at your mercy?” Laughing, Faith dries Kayla’s hair and wraps the towel around her shoulders, and says “Happy and content… oh yah, and the last part you mentioned wasn’t bad either.” Scooping her up into her arms, Faith carries her to the bedroom and resumes toweling her off. Shaking her head in disbelief, Kayla tugs Faith close to her, kisses her passionately, and says low and intently: “Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers.” Faith looks at her with a raised eyebrow, unsure what Kayla means. Shaking her head, Kayla tries a different tongue twister. “She sells sea shells by the sea shore.” Faith shakes her head, completely clueless to what Kayla is saying. Not set back yet, Kayla tries one more time, exaggerating her ability to annunciate the next phrase. “How much wood can a woodchuck chuck, if a woodchuck could chuck wood?”

Faith smiles, but can’t hide her confusion. “I don’t…” Kayla silences Faith by drawing her hand across Faith’s lips; she fights back her frustration and silently mouths: “Think… listen…” She confidently says out loud, “What sounds different now? Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers.” Kayla watches Faith’s facial expressions transition from utter confusion, to replay, processing, comprehension, amazement, and finally to unbridled joy. Kayla yelps as Faith bear hugs against her shoulder rocking lovingly. 

 

            Sidestepping thru the closing gymnasium doors, Faith unhooks her backpack from her shoulder and lazily snags it in her pinky. Looking around, she’s honestly surprised by the turnout of officers, even with the thick fog pilling up outside. Fishing out a clipboard from her bag, she quickly checks off a dozen names until Romero steps up to her and squeezes her arm. Nodding dispassionately, she finishes checking off the last four names on her list. With his hands in his pockets, Romero asks: “Gotta sec?”

            Faith coldly replies: “Well, not really. I have a class starting now.” Looking up from her clipboard, she sees that Romero has no intention on leaving. “Fine.” Handing the clipboard to Alicia, Faith leads him to the farthest wall and start exchanging heated words. As Alicia looks on, Officer Connelly, a young recruit who excelled in track and field during his high school years, glides in behind her and whispers: “I suspected they had something going on, but I was hoping I was wrong.” Angered by his words, Alicia retorts fiercely, “Hey, you don’t know diddly squat, and neither do I! So let’s keep the petty rumors to a minimum. Everyone! Lets begins with…” Faith’s distinctive voice rings out, dragging everyone’s attention towards her as she yells, “You told her what? YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Alicia spins around on her heels as Faith launches Officer Romero into the farthest wall, almost twenty feet away. With the entire class rushing forth to separate the pair, Officer Connelly is the first to the scene. Blind with rage, Faith doesn’t let him stand between her and Romero, and tosses him aside like a rag doll. Romero picks himself from the floor, clutching his arm, only to be grasped by his collar and lifted to his feet. Faith snarls as she prepares to give him another flying lesson, but the entire class unexpectedly tackles her. Screaming to get loose, Faith bucks and kicks wildly trying to shake the half-dozen officers still piled on top of her.

            Seeing that the pile of officers isn’t going to last forever, Alicia grabs Romero and throws him towards the door. Screaming curses towards Faith, Romero is steadily shoved towards the exit and only holds his tongue when Alicia roughly grabs his broken arm. Raising his good hand, he barely stops himself from hitting her. She reflexively flinches, expecting his hand to come across her face at any moment. With anger melting over him, he somehow draws his hand back and down to his side. Turning away, he kicks the door open and stomps out into the foggy cityscape. She turns toward Faith, only to see her running out another exit, heading towards the parking lot. Raising her hands to the heavens Alicia looks at the dazed bewildered officers, who are looking to each other for either an explanation or a plan for what to do now. Breathing heavily, she gathers up her courage, clears her throat and says in her usual mousy voice: “Well… let’s get the class started… from the top.”  

            Bursting into the apartment, Faith franticly searches for Kayla. Falling though the entrance of the bedroom, she finds her dressed in her 5-size too big floppy grey sweat suit and typing steadily at a computer keyboard. The infamous San Angeles Driver’s Test wasn’t an easy test to pass with 6 essay questions, 150 multiple-choice, and 3 separate driving tests on a closed course. Most people simply chose to walk or use the City Transit system, rather than go through the excruciatingly stressful process. Fortunately, thanks to her current employment with the SAPD, she might be afforded a waiver on an essay question or two; and a few officers she knew, were willing to help her pass the closed course portion. Stopping mid-sentence, Kayla spins her chair around, looks at the clock next to the bed, and then turns back to Faith for an explanation. Faith’s eyes, red and sore, burst when Kayla stares into them piercingly. Draping her arms across her chest, Faith feels naked against the paralyzed woman’s glare. As the seconds tick by, Faith hardy breathes until suddenly they lurch from her lungs as heavy sobs. Kayla releases her hold on Faith by dropping her gaze to the floor, then swiping her sleeve across her own tear drenched face. With a hoarse voice she murmurs, “So I guess you ran into lover boy huh?”

            Flying to Kayla’s feet, she throws herself to the floor and pulls Kayla to face her. “I’m so sorry! I never meant to…” Kayla clamps her hand across Faith’s mouth, silencing her before she can continue. “Don’t! Don’t say anything, which you…” Kayla shakes her head slowly, “…you can’t even explain it away. Don’t even try.” Almost blubbering, Faith pulls Kayla’s hand away and begins pleading uncontrollably, “But please! I don’t want to lose you! You’re my only…”

            Kayla slaps her hard across the face, while never taking her eyes from Faith’s; the crack from her hand echoes against the four walls of the small bedroom. Faith tries not to recoil and continues to accept whatever punishment she receives from her lover. Clamping her eyes shut from Kayla’s blinding gaze, Faith prepares herself for the next swing and waits hesitantly for an eternity to slowly pass. Through an ocean of tears, she opens her eyes and glares pleadingly for Kayla’s forgiving grace. Unwilling to take advantage of her, Kayla holds her hand in the air. As the emotions flood her senses, she feels her anger drained away by the sight of the gorgeous brunette before her. Her will to stay angry dissipates rapidly, as Faith cries and sobs in her lap and the joy of having regained her speech still hangs over her. Breathing raggedly, she uses her raised hand to gently wipe away the tears covering Faith’s face. Clasping her hands around Faith’s face, she steadily draws her close to her lips and kisses her. Savoring their salty lips, she holds Faith to her for several minutes until she suddenly breaks the mutual embrace. Steadying herself, she speaks forcefully to Faith. “This is it, no more second chances. One more time you even look like you got something going on, I don’t care if it’s with a skanky-ass vampire, Italian heartthrob, or a three-time Olympic gymnast. You hear me? I won’t be humiliated again. Not by you; not like this. You owe me the same respect I afford you! I know what you do at night; I know what you go through just to make it home safe to me! And…” She wipes her sleeve across her sodden face and continues, “…and just because I can’t fight along side you any more, doesn’t mean we can’t love each other any less. It’s up to you now, not me. From here on out, the slate is clean; but no second chances. You got that miss hot pants?” Smiling, Kayla kisses Faith and she nods and whispers, “Yes ma’am.” As time passes and laughter fills the room, the computer monitor eventually shuts off and eventually followed by the computer itself. The daylight slowly creeps from one side of the window shades to the opposite end, to finally disappearing altogether.

 

            Through the clamor and clash of jubilant partygoers, Romero sits alone hunched over gloomily, staring into the never-reaches of his drink. With the afternoon still festering over him, he relives every moment of the last 24 hours trying to figure out what went wrong, but the truth eludes him. Downing his drink, he considers calling it a night but can’t fathom what he’ll do after that. As he starts to rise, a massive figure comes from behind and plants his hands on Romero’s shoulders. Jumping, he finds himself reseated by the enormous presence of Victor Eiglestraum, the bar’s owner. “So, planning to call it a night already? Where’s your lady friend?”

            Swallowing hard, Romero says dryly. “Her dyke roommate has got her wrapped around her little finger too tightly. I tried everything you told me, but she just reeled her back in with her shitty smile and looks. I can’t believe she chose that whorish bitch over me! Maybe I should just forget her and move on, no chick is worth this much bullshit.” If on cue, a waitress drops off another drink as Mr. Eiglestraum begins to speak. “Nonsense! She’s a hot number, and you two make a great looking couple. I’ve got a little something in my backroom… a little something from my contraband days… which could help you to win her over a bit easier, if you know what I mean.” Smiling, he rises and briskly massages Romero’s shoulders before he heads towards the storage room. “I’ll be right back killer, and we’ll devise a new strategy to win her from the evil clutches of this other woman.” Laughing and carrying on, he strolls towards the darkly lit storage room and closes the door behind him. Looking along the shelves, he pauses between the middle shelves, as if looking at the previous upper shelf. Giving no warning he thrusts his fist into the darkness between the two racks, and rips a small robed figure into the dim light. Raising him to eye level he snarls at him and revels in the fear in the tiny man. “Ah if it isn’t the little Dumut. The prestigious Gowen finally gave you an errand to do all by yourself? You’re moving up in the ranks. It’s good to see you again.” He holds the small creature suspended in the air, milking every ounce of sweaty fear from him, before finally setting him on his feet. 

            Feeling a bit more at ease with his feet on the ground, he adjusts his robe and fishes out a small bag from his pocket. Clearing his throat, he tightens his posture and says boldly, “My master has requested an update on your efforts to eliminate the slayer, and to take out an additional contract on another adversary residing within the city.” The bewildering presence of the storeowner towers over the meek figure. Reaching easily over Dumut, he silently continues scouring the shelves for the mysterious item; and only after the third shelf does he speak over his shoulder. “Tell your employer that ‘updates’ weren’t part of our agreement. I’m not getting paid until this job is completed, so my style will not be questioned nor scrutinized by anyone. If he wants to hire someone and they were to kill her off before me, I would have no harsh feeling, nor would seek reparation for my time. _WE_ agreed that I would do it my way or no way, and nothing has changed. I’m on to her, and I’m slowly witling away her emotional support, and soon she’ll be ripe for the picking; a time and place of my choosing, not hers. So, if he continues to send peons forth who could possibly tip her off to my plans, I _WILL_ become upset, and demand reparations. GOT IT? Good. So, who’s this other target he wants eliminated? It had better not be some local official; that will be more difficult and more troublesome than it’s worth.”

            Dumut strolls over to the shelf the Swedish storeowner persistently scrutinizes. “Ah, but my master offers you more than just the standard fee, he’s quite aware of your desire to find and destroy a certain warrior… the child of light.” Mr. Eiglestraum freezes in place at the sound of Dumut’s final words. Removing his head from between the shelves, he steps back and beams at the small figure. “Don’t screw with me! If it was here in the city, I’d know!” Dumut begins stammering uncontrollably, and is suddenly lifted from his feet to see eye to eye to the huge Swede. He makes a final plea for his life, as the end is apparently near. “BUT SIR!!!!! I only can say that I’ve seen with my own eyes that the child does live in the city! We had a Maradan Gem and it was glowing brighter than it has ever been seen in decades. We know where it is and… it is a _she_.” The Swede’s face transitions from glowing red-faced anger to a jubilant row of teeth; offset by a vicious set of canine fangs, the fangs are set wider apart than any vampire Dumut had ever seen. If it weren’t for the fact Mr. Eiglestraum’s face never contorted to a demonic state, he’d easily mistaken him for a vampire. Setting the poor Dumut down, he crouches to the small man’s eye level and flashes a wide smile, complimented by his rows of perfect white human teeth. “Dumut! You are moving up in the world. Gowen sent you here as a sacrifice, believing I would refuse your offer and or kill you outright. But instead, you’ll live; for I was the one who sold you that gem, remember? And that gem was a _real_ Maradan Gem, not some cheap knock off like Gowen thought.” Standing, he leads the small Dumut to another secret door, and says: “Wait in here until I return. Have a seat. Relax. There’s beer in the small fridge, fried chicken, fresh brownies, and inside the Lay-Z-Boy chair are some playboys; help yourself, they are from my private collection. I’ll be a few hours so don’t worry. When you return to your master, Gowen will have his position threatened and you will be one step closer to having his job.”

            Closing the door behind him, the hulking Mr. Eiglestraum pauses at the exit to the storeroom to revel at the possibility of finally destroying the only creature that could prematurely end his days on this world. The ongoing fear that it might discover and slaughter him without warning had woken him from his sleep too often. The thought that he could finally destroy the creature responsible for single-handedly executing his entire clan of demons from this world, nearly 2500 years ago, was intoxicating. Grabbing a small blue vial of liquid from a box from a shelf, he retreats from the storeroom and practically dances his way through the bar for the remainder of the evening.    

           

 **September 21,** **2032**

 **San Angeles, (11:30am)**        

 

            Pacing back and forth, Tara murmurs and chants insistently before dozens of scrolls spread around her. As if called upon to stop, she looks across the room at Willow exasperated and says: “It’s no use. I can’t make heads or tails of these. I’ve tried every known language, translation spell and gesture... other than a few I’m fairly certain would be of no use. They won’t reveal themselves for what they are. The language is not of this world, nor of human tongue.” Willow replies filling in the blanks. “Alticia was a powerful witch who spent the first hundred years of her life discovering the secrets of the universe; and the second hundred trying to tap into the secrets of the demon worlds. I heard rumors she spent the last of her years trying to decipher some demonic treasures she had somehow obtained. What has always been anybody’s guess.” Tara leaves Willow’s side and gathers up the scrolls and puts them back in their cases. “So I guess the cats out of the bag, huh? Now we’re no closer to discovering their contents than she was.” Willow nods as if all knowing and finally says, “So why does the buyer want them, and how did we get them?” Crossing the room, Tara sits besides Willow, and lays her arm around the aged witch. “And that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it.” Looking closely at the scroll case, she notices a green sticker at the lower flat end of the case. Twirling it in her hand Willow stops as she pauses to stare at the sticker, more closely. Faded orange ink, barely visible after countless years, seems to bare no real shape. As she moves to set it down, Tara giggles and casually asks: “That’s a cute sticker of a rabbit… how’d that get there?”

 

 **September 22,** **2032**

**San Angeles, (1:15am)**

 

            Lacey stumbles through the front door of Willow and Tara’s apartment, not surprised to find the mess of countless scrolls strewn across the floors and tables. Recognizing the difference between a mess and organized chaos, she respectfully crosses the room, careful to not disturb any of the small piles of books and papers. Interrupting another passionate moment between her mothers, she says sarcastically, “You know there are things like locks and doors you two can use, if you want a bit of privacy.” Setting her gym bag by the door to the bedroom, she leans against the door frame waiting for either of them to reply. It doesn’t take but a second to get Tara to reply, “It’s kind of pointless when you don’t use the door chime or even knock before you enter, don’t you think?” With her tired body expression, she smiles and agrees. “Point taken. So, these things will be coming by for those scrolls in a couple of days, I can’t stall them anymore. Got anything on them yet?”

            Willow chimes in, lacing the conversation with unforeseen enthusiasm. “Absolutely nothing! A real mystery, if I say so myself… which I do. Alticia couldn’t decipher them, and neither can we. The only useful bit of information we know about them, is that they are for a ceremony… of some sort.”

Interrupting Willow, Tara grabs the moment by saying, “Or it could be the world’s oldest known recipe to something like potato soup or how to make the best stuffed crab.”

            Taking the initiative, Lacey continues the idea by adding, “Or it could be like, how to prepare dish water or how to prepare lamb…” She’s cut short by Willow interjecting proudly, “Or like how to prepare man! Or…” Willow pauses as the full effect of her words immediately extinguishes the humor from everyone’s faces. A cold chill runs through everyone and Willow stutters out, “I meant it like that really old movie, with the space aliens… which… doesn’t help my case one bit. I’ll shut up now.”

            Tara compassionately squeezes Willow’s hand and mouths that it’s okay, and says finally, “Nonetheless, we aren’t going to be able to read them, no matter what we do. I wish we had been here when those creeps showed up. They won’t reveal who their employer is; and though the money their offer is very considerable, it doesn’t help my obvious concern and curiosity about selling these scrolls. Anya couldn’t tell me anything about them, only that they were listed as dangerous, explaining the reason she put the sticker on the cases; but no one knows why. She knows them by reputation alone, and nothing more. Most demons have never heard of them, and those who do, often ask why they are dangerous as well.”

            Willow breaks her silence by saying, “And I even made a call to England and talked to the coven there, and they didn’t claim to know anything more than I told them I knew. They did say they tried calling a distinguished witch here on the west coast a number of years ago, but she never returned their calls. Harriet Gould, if I remember correctly. I tried the number, but got only an answering machine, like they did. She’s known by name and reputation, but no one knows anything specific about her.”

            Tara nods in agreement, and replies, “Yah, I’ve heard her name mentioned numerous times at the annual witches council meeting. They always reserve her a seat, but she never shows. I heard they’ve been doing that for as long as anyone can remember, before I was even born. It seems incredible, but I’ve been assured she still lives, but doesn’t concern herself in day to day witch politics. Like she’s doing just what Alticia did eons ago.”

            Silence descends over the family, as each privately speculates on the scope and meaning of the world around them. Without breaking the silence, each rises and sets out cleaning up the mess of scrolls, and returns the small apartment back to its original immaculate condition. As Tara and Lacey lift and put away the heavy locked chest of scrolls, Willow suddenly appears presenting each with a steaming cup of tea and honey. As the veil of silence lifts, they slowly relax and unwind from their long exhausting day. As if to redirect their fears, Lacey enthusiastically declares, “OH! I checked on Kayla this afternoon, while Faith was off teaching her class.” Their morbid expressions are suddenly lifted by their attention switching to the small woman. Tara asks anxiously, “And? Don’t hold back now! How’s she doing?”

            Laughing Lacey continues, “She’s fine! She’s actually better than fine, she’s phenomenal. You can tell by her skin tone, the texture, her eyes… her eyes have life in them. I’ve never seen greener eyes in anything before, in my life! Before they were just average, and had some brownish tint to them, but now… wow! She glows. I think Faith is incredibly lucky, right now, to have her. And…I saw her actually smiling, today; a genuine smile. That girl can really bounce back after all she’s been through. I have no idea how she does it.”

            Coming up behind Lacey, Willow wraps her arms around her and squeezes lovingly. “And that’s why you don’t take life for granted. Just as you think you got it all figured out, something like her comes round, and rewrites the books. There’s a reason Faith and her are still together, and I can’t for the life of me solve that puzzle; but there is a reason. That demon seed would have destroyed anyone else, but somehow it couldn’t extinguish the light in her heart. A true miracle, Lacey; don’t over analyze or rationalize this stuff.”

Nodding in agreement, Lacey returns the hug, and finishes the last of her tea before leaving to her own apartment down the hall.

 

**Wednesday, September 24, 2032**

**San Angeles (7:30pm)**

 

            Wheeling herself into Willow and Tara’s apartment, Kayla smiles to Lacey, who has buried herself in an old book. With a grin, Kayla sarcastically asks, “You even going to say hi, or what?” Surprised by Kayla’s words, she pulls herself from the pages, and says apologetically, “Oh! I’m sorry, this book has been swallowing all of my attention since dinner. I can’t seem to put it down.” Intrigued, Kayla sets her gym bag behind the couch, and wheels herself to Lacey’s side. Looking at the cover, the title ‘Necronomicon and Other Obscure Events’ doesn’t strike a chord of recognition with her. Shaking her head, she says, “Nope, doesn’t do a thing for me.”

            Lacey finishes the paragraph she’s on, and sets the bookmark in place. “It talks about lots of weird rites and rituals, which through time, have been forgotten. The thing is, that’s not why I’m reading it.” She leads Kayla to another book on the coffee table. “Read this about a ‘Child of Light’ which the author claimed was lost during the 12th century AD. BUT! In 1849, the watcher Clyde Welbourne, noted that a girl, fitting the exact description as told in the 1267 scrolls, came to the rescue of the Slayer of that time. The vampire queen Drusilla, and about two dozen vampires tried to take them both on; but were driven away by the girl’s “unique fighting abilities.” She didn’t rely on wooden stakes to dust vampires; apparently she used her bare hands. I tried to get a hold of Angel, to see if he knew anything about this, but as usual he’s unavailable for comment.”

            Kayla’s apprehension to read the book goes unnoticed by Lacey who continues unabated. “Now here’s the clincher! Mom… well both Tara and Willow actually, remember the demon they fought years ago had mentioned something about a creature of light, before they killed it. It said it was the only thing it was really afraid of or something like that. It also says that an army of demons were sent to the Earth over 2000 years ago to kill her, but were vanquished. All by her very own hands. The author suggests that there’s a link between slayers and this child of light, but won’t say anything specific. Willow says that the Slayers are older than that, and possibly go back to the dawn of mankind on Earth. If that’s true, that could possibly make this creature of light even older than that.”

            Rolling her chair to the dining table, Kayla thumbs through a couple of books lying on top, and says, “I still don’t see a connection, or a reason for this sudden interest in this creature of light. That demon, you were talking about earlier, was killed right? So what’s the point?”

            Closing the books near her, Lacey picks up all the books and deposits them on the dining room table. With a tinge of fear in her voice, Lacey tries to continue. “That’s the thing. We thought we had killed, it, but we’re starting to get news that a powerful demon, who everyone thought was killed around that same time, is back in action in Sunnydale. Well, at least in the ruins of the town. And we never knew we had to do a ritual destruction of his body, in order to keep him from regenerating. We just burned the creature to a crisp, and left.

            As the conversation reaches a long pause, a ring at the door surprises both of them and Kayla rolls herself along the wall, towards the bathroom. Lacey, waiting for her to pass, eventually opens the door to find her guests are the one and only Dumut and Tweela. Throwing on her serious game face, Lacey balks, “What do you want.”

            Taken back by her cold demeanor, Tweela croaks, “Our master wants to verify that our offer still stands, and he wants to arrange a meeting place outside of the city.”

            Deciding not to break character, Lacey continues sarcastically, “You mean he’s going to make a personal appearance for us? I’m surprised.”

            Stuttering, Dumut continues. “Why of course not. He’s sending a trusted aid to receive the scrolls, and he will pay you. It’s so that he can be sure of the authenticity of the scrolls; and if they are authentic, he will pay you. Our employer is very skeptical that you have the real scrolls, and he has to be sure. He wouldn’t throw away this much gold for a fake. As you asked, half now, the other half upon delivery. Presenting her with a wooden box, she extends it easily outwards for her to grasp. Deceived by his abnormal strength, Lacey casually grasps the two handles on either side of the box. She nearly falls forward from the sudden weight, as Dumut releases his grasp of the box. Tripping backwards, Lacey twists around lets the heavy box fall onto the couch harmlessly. Quickly looking towards the little guest, He maintains his place outside the apartment, and immediately blasts out a sarcastic smile. 

            Taken back by its weight and Dumut’s strength, Lacey squeaks out, “When do you want to exchange the scrolls?”

            Still smiling broadly, he says: “Immediately, actually. How about one hour.” Taken back again, Lacey’s face can’t hide her confusion. “AN HOUR! You said Friday!”

            He sneers, “Things have changed. We need the scrolls right away, and he’s willing to give you fifty percent more. Rather than give you one more of those boxes filled with gold at the exchange, he’ll pay you two, for the inconvenience. What he wants, we try to get. Our employer is quite reasonable.”

Lacey can’t help to feel the pull of greed versus obvious danger. Giving it several moments, she reluctantly agrees, and sends the pair off to arrange the meeting, after getting the address of where to meet.

            After the door closes, Dumut lets Tweela lead him around the corner, out of sight from the apartment entrance. Turning to Tweela, he asks, “Well? Is she the one?” As he stares at Tweela for a response, he steps back suddenly as Tweela immediately doubles then triples in height. Her shape is replaced with the massive figure of Mr. Eiglestraum. He takes his hand out of his pocket and says sinisterly, “Why yes, Dumut, she’s the one. You have exceeded everyone’s expectations of you. Your master will be replacing Gowen, the next time he sees you.” Unsheathing a long serpentine blade, Dumut says, “Then lets finish her off now.”

            Grasping his head, he pulls him back behind the corner, and says, “NO! Not here. Even I’m no match for her on her own ground. If she’s a witch too, she has too much power rooted in her own abode. We’ll do it our way, our rules, and in our setting. She’ll be powerless to stop us, and we will have both the scrolls and gold.” Realizing the wisdom in his words, Dumut accepts his advice and sets off to make the preparations.

           

            With the door closed, Lacey turns around to see Kayla staring at her inquisitively. “Now what was that all about?” Lacey half ignores her to open the small and heavy wooden box. With an agonizing creak, the lid groans open and reveals the golden treasures within. Neatly stacked gold ingots, fill the interior and everyone seems to stop breathing for what seems like an eternity. Engraved on the face of each bar, above the precise weight and purity percentage, the notorious Nazi Swastika screams out their dark origins. A grim mood momentarily passes over them. Finally gasping for air, Lacey casts a quick spell over the box and smiles jubilantly, while Kayla retains her dark demeanor. Kayla’s eyes travel far away and she feels her heart tearing and ripping. Lacey, oblivious to Kayla’s disposition, cheers out: “It’s all real. Every ounce of it is real.” Kayla shakes her head in disbelief. “That’s not possible… that’s worth…” Lacey slowly interjects. “More than I could ever count and we’ll get two more boxes, if we deliver the scrolls in an hour.”

            Shaking her head in continued disbelief, Kayla says bluntly. “Don’t do it. There’s something wrong with all this. It’s too easy, and too good to be true. Let’s wait for Willow and Tara to get home, and we can all go together. Hell! Faith will be getting back in a couple of hours too! If we go it alone, we’re leaving ourselves open to a serious trap. It’s almost as if they want you going it alone.”

            Ignoring Kayla’s words, Lacey springs up, throws the scrolls in a gym bag, and goes to the computer to look up the location of the bar in question. Following Lacey around, Kayla sees where the bar is and says, “And a bar outside of town? Come on, think! This is a trap for you. Use your head.” Lacey, with nothing but gold filling her head, fumbles for her car keys, and jacket. “I’ll be right back, this shouldn’t take more than an hour or so to get there and get back. As soon as Tara and Willow get back, we would have missed a once in lifetime opportunity.” Cursing under her breath, Kayla rolls her chair into the kitchen and looks around desperately for a solution. As Lacey walks by she’s sees no other way. Purposefully knocking a book from the table, she asks coolly, “Could you get that for me, before you go.” Lacey, from the living room quickly rushes to rescue the fallen book. Bending over at Kayla’s feet, she hardly notices Kayla’s small fingers fly down, plunging solidly into her neck. Like hit with a sledge hammer, Lacey is quickly laid unconscious from the meek blow. Backing away, Kayla says to the sleeping form, “They’re expecting you, not me. You’ll thank me in the morning.” Fishing into her shirt pocket, she plucks out her van keys, and snags the gym bag of scrolls as she leaves the apartment.

            Sitting in the farthest booth, Gaymoran sheds his Eiglestraum identity to assume his natural form. The short horns adorn his crowning brow, and his widely spaced canines offer him his sense of wholeness, missed greatly under his human guise. Setting a wilted and dying plant in the center of the booth, he mumbles an incantation, and the plant glows momentarily. As suddenly as it started, the ember extinguishes and resembles the usual dead plant appearance. Extracting the infamous Maradan Gem from his pocket, he calmly toys with it from one hand to another, until it finally starts to glow dimly. With a sinister grin he starts contemplating the guise he’ll wear for this engagement. Knowing his blonde ski instructor look won’t work, he thinks back to his old favorites. Reminiscing, he grins slyly and chuckles to himself. In moments, the dark foreboding presence is replaced with a short vile eastern Indian man, barely over five feet tall. His deep chuckle transitions to a more appropriate snicker of the vile and degenerative sadist, Dr. Lahzlo Ahmil. After abandoning this guise nearly thirty plus years ago, due to numerous arrest warrants and FBI searches, he confidently relaxes that the world should have forgotten this face by now. Flagging down the waitress, a mediocre vampire in her mid twenties, he rasps cruelly, “I’m waiting for a guest to show, a young blonde girl. Would you please be sure she’s not detained, in route to my table?” Laying a 100-dollar bill before him, she quickly snags it up and checks to see it’s a counterfeit. Satisfied, she nods and asks, “Anything else to drink for you or your guest?” Smiling, he says, “One more of these and a fruit drink when she arrives. Nothing alcoholic for her.” The waitress smiles, and quickly leaves to ensure his wishes are complied with, to his satisfaction.

            Panic sets in as Faith’s patience fades away. Kayla wasn’t at home, and she said she’d be at Lacey’s. Outside, Lacey’s car is still parked, but no one answers. Furthermore, with a minor abuse of police power, a trace on Kayla’s location came back with nothing. Waiting mere moments, which pass as hours, Faith growls impatiently and commands the door to open, using her authority. After a few words are passed, the door relinquishes its hold and parts for the police officer. Surging through, she scans the interior only to nearly stumble across the unconscious form of Lacey. Shaking her vigorously, Faith screams her name until finally, Lacey begins to stir. Grasping the back of her neck she mumbles: “Wha… what time is it?” Looking at her watch, Faith replies impatiently, “Eight thirty… where’s Kayla!” Grimacing, Lacey sluggishly mumbles, “I’m fairly certain she decided to make the exchange herself. She was adamant that it was all a trap; I wouldn’t listen to her. There was a fallen book, and…” Faith stops her abruptly and lifts her to her feet. “How long ago?” Half stuttering, she spits out: “Tw…twenty minutes.”

            Parking in the dirt lot adjacent to the address, Kayla disembarks and rolls herself through the pair of swinging doors leading into the notorious demon bar referred to locally as Brood’s Pit. No one seems to remember where the name came from, but every owner seems to have liked the name enough to keep it around. The green and red Plexiglas emanate a putrid glow from the lights inside, further casting away the weak hearted. Surprisingly, she encounters no overt resistance to her presence. Glancing around, a young woman, Kayla instinctively guesses a vampire, points her towards the darkest rear corners of the bar. She’s actually taken back by the jovial nature of the various demons dancing and celebrating. Whenever she’d been in bars like this, it was always dark and foreboding, like a wake of an old friend. Another pair of vampires, almost out of place in this bar, skips and prances in raw celebration, to some dark future in the air. Actual joy light their faces, and Kayla can’t help to be amused. As they part and clear her way, the illusion of peace and joy, immediately dissipates as the dark corner stands before her. Even worse, an evil presence silently beckons her approach.

              Toying with the small Maradan gem, Gaymoran calmly monitors the approach of the child of light. The meek glow earlier is but a memory compared to the blazing radiance cupped in his hand. Over the last 20 minutes, he patiently watched the ember grow to the intensity in his hand. Not needing to look up, he confidently gauges her approach and says blindly, “Please _Little One_ , have a seat besides me. A drink first, before bus…” He cuts himself off as he looks up to look Lacey in the eyes, only to find a wheel-chaired lady sitting before him. He feels his jaw drop; and if it weren’t for the darkness, his composure would be blown. Panic stricken, he glances down into his hand for reassurance. The brilliance momentarily blinds him, and he looks away. Lost for words, he has no choice but to let silence consume him.  

            Kayla suddenly halts in her tracks, as the familiarity of the outline of the creature, activates some old terrible fear. As he speaks, his choice of words drives a stake through her heart as the words ‘Little One’ entangles her spine and sucks the courage from her heart. Fear overcomes her, the blood rushes from her head, and she forgets to breathe, threatening to kill her. Unfortunately for her, that doesn’t happen; and uncontrollably, tears begin swell and rain from her eyes, blinding her. Desperately, she wills herself to wheel backwards and runaway, but her arms tremble at her sides uselessly.

            Regaining his composure, he realizes that the girl hasn’t escaped or ran away. Seeing he’s got her completely petrified, it only takes a moment to place her face from his long past. As he keeps her immobilized before him, the realization that he had the child of light in his grasp so long ago completely boggles him. The small girl framed for murdering the backwoods cop; he never thought the child of light would let herself be confined like a common criminal. He knew she was innocent of the charges then, but the allure of playing with such an innocent toy, was too tempting back then. If he had only carried the gems with him, during those days, he would have killed her already. Finally he understood the capabilities of the gems; not only did they detect the child’s presence, but also her life force. While she was in the cryo-prison, she was almost dead; thus the gems would only give off a feint glow. When she was awoken, after the prison break, the gem glowed brighter. Everything just made sense to him finally. With sadistic pleasure he gets in character and orders, “It’s been a long time _Little One_ , I said _have a seat_.” 

            With trembling arms, she wheels herself over to the darkened booth. Hoping he’ll be content with her close proximity, she stops at the head of the table. Screaming for some strength, she tries uselessly to will her body to stop trembling in fear. From the darkness he orders, “My tolerance for your continued insolence is waning. Now _COME_ and sit by me… _NOW_.” Drawn like a moth to the flames, she can’t fight his will to obey. Shivering, she slides up the booth’s seat and timidly heaves herself over onto the seat to his right. The tremble in her arms spreads to her body as if the temperature had suddenly plummeted. The vile presence of the doctor, overwhelms her, prevented her from even raising a brow towards him. As he had trained decades ago, she sits submissively with her hands in her lap, waiting for his next instructions.

              Satisfied, he looks her up and down and realizes her paralysis isn’t a ruse. To her surprise his face flashes that of actual horror. “I can’t have caused this! I’m thorough, I’m competent, and I don’t make mistakes like this! You left my care with all your limbs fully functional.” Unaware of his serious concern for her health she dismally replies, “It… it was the stasis process. They say it’s very rare when it happens.”

Breathing a loud sigh of relief, Dr. Ahmil nods and says, “Ah, well that’s a relief. I’m truly sorry to hear of your condition.” Turning to look down at her hunched over form, he speaks clearly to her. “You must understand that I would never willfully do this to you, unless I intended to. It’s disgraceful to make an error of this magnitude, and I never wanted you do be like this. It’s truly a crime to error in this fashion, and I took great care to ensure this wouldn’t happen.” Staring at her, he sees his words are falling on deaf ears. Looking over her shoulder, he sees the gym bag. “Is that bag for me?” Motioning for her to hand it over, she moves her hand over to grab it, but stops suddenly as she shifts away from him and raises her hand to strike him. Instinctively, he catches her hand and applies his full strength to crushing it. A pitiful moan escapes Kayla lips as countless bones snap and break through her hand and arm. She raises her left hand to cast a lethal bolt of lighting to her foe, only sense the absence of any magical potential. Similar to a void in a soundproof room, the absence is unimaginably stifling. As her hopes of survival bleed away, Dr. Ahmil snickers and says cruelly, “Do you actually think I would have let a powerful witch just bless my presence. Sorry, but I can’t afford to take chances like that. And with the knowledge of who and what you are, I can’t afford to let you walk away either.”

            The blaring music of the bar effectively masks Kayla’s raw screams as he pulls her close to him in a bear hug grasp. Spreading his lips, he unsheathes grotesquely long fangs, not too unlike those of vampires. As tears stream from her eyes, the pain of her flesh being penetrated reinforces her terror. False visions of Faith coming to her rescue flash before her; even the unexpected arrival of Willow or Tara would offer a glimmer of hope. Alas, as her vision falters and begins to fade, she realizes that it was all but a fleeting wish. A cold blanket wraps around her and her remaining strength evaporates, before he tosses her uselessly to the bench to die cold and alone.

            Coming to an abrupt stop at the entrance of the bar, Faith and Lacey jump out of the car and sprint towards the door. In a mad rush, Faith decides not to risk a careful entry, and kicks the swinging doors open. Red and green plastic fly in every direction, hardly getting the attention of the partygoers. Staring down momentarily, the glitter of green and red plastic causes a flash of déjà vu to slap her. Focusing, she dismisses it and scans the room for Kayla. Heading to the back, she pushes through dancing couples, and looks left and right into every booth. Drawn instinctively, Faith leads Lacey towards the very back of the bar. With fewer and fewer booths left, she eyes a movement in very back corner booth. Keying into that booth she literally throws a dancing pair of vampires apart. Screaming out Kayla’s name Faith causes the creature to look up and discard the lifeless form of her lover to the floor. Scooping up the gym bag, he looks for an escape route, and chooses an emergency exit near the booth. Ripping the door from the hinges, he blasts through into the comforting darkness of outdoors.

            Sliding to the ground, Faith cradles her lover in her arms, and desperately screams for her to awaken. The motionless silence tells volumes, as tears of loss turn to vengeance. Setting her atop the table, she looks to the door and turns to follow the murderous creature. As she lurches to follow, Lacey screams, “Faith! We need to get her to a hospital, NOW! She’s alive, but not for much longer! Feeling the draw to pursue him, Faith starts to step towards the door, once again. “Faith! I can’t do it alone… SHE NEEDS YOU NOW! DON’T ABANDON HER!” For an eternity, Lacey’s words rattle inside her head, but the idea of abandoning Kayla in her moment of need strikes a mysterious cord, and she dismisses her need for vengeance. Turning back to Kayla, she scoops her up and rushes to Lacey’s car.

             Opening the door for Faith, Lacey rushes to the trunk and yanks out her paramedic bag. Shuffling through it she swears to herself for not replacing the bag plasma she had always kept. Tearing open a self-healing skin patch, she slaps it against Kayla’s neck and orders Faith to hold it there for 45 seconds. Instinctively, Faith already knew that and holds it there while checking Kayla’s vitals. Just as she knew how to use the skin replacement patch, she interprets Kayla’s condition as critical. With anxious dread in her voice she yells to Lacey who’s talking to the hospital on the fiber-op. “She’s going into shock! Fast shallow breathing, high heart rate, and decreasing blood pressure! She’s not going to make it to the hospital unless she gets blood, NOW!” Lacey, lost to what she should do, asks Faith desperately, “What’s your blood type?”

            Instinctively Faith belches out, “O negative.” Lacey can hardly believe her luck, as she glances over at Kayla’s medical records scrolling across her Fiber-Op screen. An eye blink later, she reads that Kayla too is O negative. Keeping the line open with the hospital, Lacey tosses a number of rubber hoses, sealed needles, and small siphon-like pump into Kayla’s lap, and throws her jacket off into the drivers seat. Ordering Faith into the backseat with Kayla, she dumps the front passenger seat over, and helps Faith out of her jacket. In a minute, she’s got a needle and tube in Faith’s arm, and the line clear of air to the small transfer pump, no larger than the palm of her hand. The pump, used mostly to start the initial transfer, lies atop Kayla’s lap with a short transfer hose to a needle. Lacey steadies her grip on the needle, and pierces the skin. Looking up to Kayla’s face, she had hoped for a painful reaction to the needle; but her hopes drain away seeing no movement or reaction to the penetrating object. Moments pass in excruciating anticipation before any blood from Kayla begins to flow up the line. Barely able to swallow, she clears the line of air, and twists a second valve. Using a small finger bulb on the side of the device, Kayla’s blood is forced back into her, and Faith’s blood is slowly pumped in. Wiping salty tears off her face, Faith continues to check vitals manually, even though both Kayla’s and hers are being displayed on the screen, along side the Fiber-Op phone screen. After several minutes, Lacey stops pumping and verifies Faith’s blood pressure is driving the blood by itself. Climbing into the driver’s seat, Lacey straps in, and accelerates the vehicle away from the bar.

            Bursting through the emergency room entrance, a pair burley orderlies rush gurneys into the sparkling white rooms. Descending onto the pair, dozens of nurses and doctors assist in the transfer of each patient and toil to save their dying patients. The door closes in front of the flustered Lacey, and she paces in mournful fear. Collapsing in a nearby chair, she finally begins to shake and sob uncontrollably, as stress and shock finally overcome her. She never notices the pair of women who perch beside her, and watch over her as she sleeps. As the hours pass a nurse waves towards Willow, who carefully stands to not wake either Tara or Lacey. Going to the nurse, she’s told she can see Faith, and is informed of Kayla’s current condition. Nodding solemnly, she follows the nurse, and enters Faith’s room. Spartan and drearily decorated, she strolls over to the bed and rubs the top of Faith’s hand. Slowly Faith opens her eyes and looks around.   

    Willow smiles and says softly: “Hiya sleepy-head.” Coming around, Faith begins to get panicky and asks vehemently, “Kayla!” The expression on Willow’s face, doesn’t give her much hope. Willow’s eyes trace up from Faith’s hand to rest on her arm. Gripping Faith’s arm, she says pitifully, “She’s in ICU… they’re going to move her in the morning after the specialist reviews her condition.” Willow finds it hard to continue on just one breath at a time.

Faith grabs Willow’s hand and demands, “What specialist! What the hell is fucking going on?” A VMA horn squawks off a fine, a system Faith had believed had been disconnected through out the city. Momentarily taken back, she returns her deadly stare towards Willow’s drooping face. Wiping her face, Willow finds the courage to continue. “She… she’s in a coma. She lost too much blood, and… and she’s lucky she made it as long as she did. We almost lost you too; Kayla maybe only had a liter of blood in her when you found her. When you both got here, you only had a little over two and a half liters; the rest went into her. You only have four or such.” Curling her hands into fists, Faith smashes them down across the metal bars beside her, bending the steel as if tin foil, and draws them to her face.

From down the hall, Tara and Lacey rush franticly to Faith’s room as mournful shrieks and screams erupt. Behind them, numerous orderlies follow to try in vain to bring Faith under control.

 

**Thursday, September 25, 2032**

**San Angeles (10:00am)**

 

            Dispassionately reviewing Kayla’s records and condition, the doctor smugly rattles off the meaningless technical jargon to Kayla’s adopted family. Faith hardly hears a word he says, except the harsh ones like: hopeless, minimal brain activity, and unresponsive. All of her fears and nightmares were slowly coming true. Even after she was convinced to disconnect life-support, she was horrified to be proved wrong once again. Kayla had enough life still in her. When the machines providing life-giving breaths went still, a long moment later, Kayla reflexively sputtered and gasped to life. Faced with the fact she lacked the simple faith in her lover; when the going got rough, Faith had done what she’d always had done best: she ran. Lacking the one quality her name falsely claimed. It was at that moment, years from now she’d look back and recant, her defining moment: an epiphany. In surrealistic fashion, she momentarily witnesses her face transposed on Kayla’s. Standing in Mayor Wilkins’s shoes, Faith feels transported back to that very night he stood over her and tried to avenge her by trying to smother Buffy. Feeling what he felt, Faith finally understands that just because she’d do the same for Kayla doesn’t mean her heart is dark as the Mayor’s was. The flood of emotions boiling and coursing through the vile veins of the mayor weren’t driven by his dark maniacal soul, but his intense love for his adopted daughter. Feeling the love, the same intense emotion coursing through her soul, didn’t mean she was in anyway the same monster he was. He made his choices long before Faith came along. Just because he demonstrated he could love intensely, didn’t make the love Faith had, as vile and evil. While enduring a condescending authority that was preaching to that all her hopes were pointless and misplaced, she realized her running days were over. Kayla had refused to let her drift away from this place, so she chose not to slip easily away in the night. Even when offered the chance of painless eternal death, Kayla had chosen to stay. Only after Faith’s rigid silence drives the so-called specialist away, does she finally speak. Drained emotionally and physically, she approaches Willow. “You know I’m not going to give up on her. I’ve been in her shoes, and you can comeback. It’s not hopeless!”

            Knowingly, Willow nods in agreement, and tells her, “I know; and until you do, neither will we. Whatever happens, you’ll call the shots.” Exchanging supportive embraces with Willow and Tara, Faith reaches out and tenderly massages each one of Kayla’s fingers. Leaning over Kayla, she closes her eyes and tenderly kisses her inanimate lips. Subconsciously praying for her to miraculously wake, she opens her eyes to the pale truth, and leans heavily into the plastic chair.

 

**September 24, 2032**

**20km West of Jakutsk,**

**Eastern Siberia, Russia (1:30pm)**

 

            Chugging thru the snow, Katya Reminov stops to peer at her pursuers. Over the last ridge of snow, a dozen white-coated beasts plow unhindered through the waist deep snow. Each easily twice her mass, the huge wolves leap over the snow like hunting an elusive rabbit. Unfortunately for her, she was that rabbit. She had a half-mile head start; but in little time, they had nearly caught up with her. Baring their fangs in anticipation at the young prey, they pick up their pace as they watch her stumble and fall into the deep snow. A bone cringing knock sounds, as she seemingly found the rocky soil underneath the 4 feet of snow. Unmoving, she lays unconsciously awaiting her death. Mentally marking the spot, they pour on the speed; and the alpha male growls, asserting his dominance over the kill. His belly will be the first filled, and only then will the others peck over what’s left.

            Ten feet from the spot, they suddenly stumble and try to reverse course as the snow surrounding them suddenly bursts to life. Twenty feet to their left, right, and directly in front of them, stand snow-camouflaged gunmen. Raising up various types of high caliber rifles, only the three frontal gunmen are equipped with ancient American fifty caliber machine guns. In thick guttural Russian, the center machinegun man orders: “Eat silver, dogs!” The machine guns come to life ripping the animals to shreds. Horrid shrieks of pain erupt from the massive wolves, as they are dissected by the furious waves of bullets streaming thru their ranks. Defying common sense, the alpha male surges forward to at least deliver a vengeful bite on the dubious rabbit of a girl, who led them to their untimely demise. Leaving most of his innards behind, he churns forward, to the unconscious girl. Death is an established fact for him, but he’ll at least have the satisfaction of driving his fangs into the seemingly heroic child.     

            Going headfirst into a boulder wasn’t part of the plan, Katya thought moments before she lost consciousness. Swimming into a whirlpool-like dream wasn’t expected either, but she suddenly finds herself center stage to a dramatic scene of battle. A vast demonic army ranked with vampires, werewolves, and untold demons stand in a vast coliseum. Looking outward towards the sea, she sees a crumbling gold bridge a vast bay, and the outline of a glorious angel surrounds it. Before a demonic audience of thousands, she stands alone. Armed with only a samurai sword and a simple robe to protect her, she readies herself for the onslaught of warriors who stand between her and their leader. The first dozen beasts fall easily under her steel, but she soon discovers they were only there to slow her down and weaken her. The second squads of troops, mostly trolls, brandish their favorite swords and hammers. Laughing and carrying on while she kills the first squad, they hold their ground until she finishes killing every last one. Her long robe, red from the blood and entrails of the dead, defiantly flaps in the hot wind. Seemingly pleased with her performance, the second squad suddenly charges forward, to test her steel.

            In minutes, the last troll collapses to his knees, as if trying to catch its own head before it strikes the ground. Bouncing twice, it comes to rest before her feet, and she casually kicks it aside. Her robe, now dyed with her own blood, displays numerous tears and rips from wounds. Weakened from battle, she confronts ten more squads of demonic warriors all greater than the ones who came before them. Decorated with fresh wounds, she still struggles to walk tall, even as the demonic master comes forward to do battle. Nearly 9 feet tall, it approaches with its head bowed and arms crossed at the chest. She can barely keep her blade steady as it suddenly throws its arms out, and a pair of frighteningly huge wings shoots out from its back. The bat-like wings extend to nearly twice its height, and emanate an evil black aura. Fear fills the void between them, and darkness clouds her eyes. A blast of light blinds the demon, seemingly from her own sword, only to be followed by a stabbing pain in Katya’s own right shoulder. She drops from the intensity of the blow, and rolls to her left to avoid any follow up attacks. As she shakes off the pain, she’s ripped from the ground into a fully upright pose. All around her, torchlight illuminates the armies of darkness, massed for the spectacle of the Slayer’s final demise. Various vampires and demons, normally mortal enemies, stand side by side, desperate to gain a decent view of the impending carnage. An awesome figure stands behind holding her several feet in the air. Hovering 3 feet from the ground, she finds the strength to land a solid blow to its chest, causing it to release her to the ground below. Picking herself up, she delivers another half a dozen sharp blows to its solidly muscular abdomen, knowing full well the uselessness in her attacks. To her rear, a raven-haired girl dressed in black leather, crawls backwards slowly, fear having taken over her motor controls. Petrified beyond her own capacity to think, Katya stumbles mindlessly trying to get far from the approaching demon, and to find her dropped sword. Taking great pleasure in tormenting the small women before it, the demon bellows a menacing roar of laughter and rejoices in the aroma of fear pouring from the two girls. Leaping between the two girls, he concentrates his assault on the other girl, while seemingly ignoring Katya. She looks down to her feet to pick up the blade, only to see the demon’s spear-like tail burst thru her belly. To her rear, the girl screams desperately to her, but she doesn’t understand the words. Dropping to her knees, she feels her life spilling away. Steadying her with one of its wings, the demon rips its tail free, sending her guts in all directions while keeping her in place. As she prays to lose consciousness, an innocent white-haired child, no more than 12, stands in front of her. Holding the blade of the sword, she holds the hilt to Katya to grasp and asks in perfect Russian: “Do you give yourself freely and willingly?” As she struggles for the meaning of the question, her surroundings transition from utter darkness to complete white. In the snow besides her, the child lies in a death-like trance. She nearly jumps out her skin when the girls eyes pop open and hears her say with unmoving lips: “Your decision will save or damn all creation.” Petrified, Katya watches numbly as the girl reaches over to her hip. Unlatching Katya’s gun holster, she puts the ten millimeter automatic pistol into Katya’s hand. Guiding the gun muzzle up into the air, the child orders calmly, “Shoot.” Confused, Katya blinks her eyes and the child is suddenly disappears. Danger fills her and she instinctively follows the child’s advice, discharges her gun twice, and rolls to her left. As she stops in her second revolution, she sees a behemoth werewolf land at her previous resting spot. Slowly, the sluggish mental barriers disappear leaving her with a pounding headache. A massive hand reaches down and helps her to her feet. Looking back at the dead wolf, she sees instead the nude figure of one deceased Michale Korik, a wanted felon with too many crimes to list in one or two good breaths, with a huge bullet exit wound in the back of his head and neck.

               Panting dramatically, her huge friend asks in Russian, “I thought you were dead for certain. How did you know to shoot? AH…! Excellent ruse! You had us all of fooled! That’s why you’re the Slayer, I guess!”

            Tracing up from her forehead, she winces as she finds a huge knot hidden by her long red locks. Ignoring his questions, she asks coldly, “Do you know what a huge golden bridge, a large bay, and an angel means or is located?” Taken back by the question, he responds in a confused tone, “Uhh… no…”

            Cutting him off again she orders, “Then call your Watchers Council, find out, and book us on the first flight out. Give Bravo Company here some time off; they deserve it after this operation. Activate Charlie Company, and tell Sophia to have her Valkyrie unit ready to go. Oh, and Petre, good work.” Striding away from the clean up operation, she finds her buried snow bike and jets off to their hotel room in Jakutsk with remnants of her disturbing premonition still churning inside her head.

           

**September 26, 2032**

**San Angeles, (5:30pm)**

           

            Opening the door for Faith, Lacey moves aside and introduces her graciously. “Lady Adriana, this is the vampire slayer Faith.” Stepping thru, Faith looks around sheepishly, and sees an elderly woman sitting beside Tara on the couch. Looking at Faith closely, she beckons Faith closer to get a better look. Complying, Faith slowly walks towards her, unsure of what to expect from this special guest from out of town. Willow was very cryptic regarding her, only saying that she had came from very far away to meet her and Kayla. Kneeling in front of her, a buzzing sound, similar to a bee, begins rattling in the back of her head. She tries to fight the urge to pull away from the aged woman, but she feels paralyzed to move. To her surprise, she suddenly feels very relaxed, and she detects the aromatic scent of fresh baked cookies or pizza pie surrounding the old woman. Feeling naked by her penetrating gaze, Faith looks left and right towards Lacey and Willow for some explanation, only to have the woman suddenly sit back smacking her gums. Looking towards Tara she says simply, “She’s not the one. She’s similar to the one, probably been around _the one_ , but definitely not the one. Where’s the other one?”

            Taken back by her tone, Faith stands up and says sarcastically, “Nice to meet you too.” Around her, everyone but Lady Adriana looks at Faith in horror to her rudeness. Unexpectedly, Lady Adriana erupts in laughter, and shoos Tara off the couch and has Faith sit by her. Leaning into Faith, she says jovially “You’re okay, you’re supposed to be here. They…” motioning towards Tara and Lacey, “they’re not supposed to be here. But you, you’re okay. Tell me about your friend… Kayla is it?” Lacey motions for Faith to talk to her, and lets the elder woman’s assistant lead the rest of them into the kitchen to talk privately. Out of earshot, he apologizes for the elder’s manners. “It’s okay. Don’t take it personal, she does this all the time. She apparently can perceive some higher dimension, which she compares to this one. I won’t try and lead you to believe that I understand half of what she means or says. She’s been looking for something… a warrior being of some kind to quote: ‘save this world.’ She called it a Shaluza. ‘Its old, ageless, yet always being born and dying.’ She also said this creature would be ‘darkened by the seeds of corruption; but this seed, would hide it from the very darkness which strives to destroy it.’ She speaks in riddles twenty-four seven; it drives me batty.”

            A burst of laughter from Faith and the old woman, cause an extended pause from the young man. Tara reaches out and squeezes Willow’s hand and says with remorse, “That’s… that’s the first time Faith has even smiled, to say the least laughed since Kayla went into the hospital. It’s tearing her up on the inside.” Interested, he asks cautiously, “And the doctors say there is little hope for her? That’s not very promising. She says that if she doesn’t find _it_ soon, this world won’t get a second chance like the last time, whenever that was.”  

            Another round of laughter erupts, and Lady Adriana turns towards her assistant and says confidently, “This sounds promising, she must be the one! Only the Shaluza could have single-handedly reformed this hell-child into the holy warrior she is today.” Practically jumping in her seat, she continues. “We need to see her first thing in the morning, I can’t wait!” Faith looks at her with a mixture of happiness, hurt feelings, and utter confusion. Turning back around in her seat, she looks to Faith once more. “Tell me, how different she was after the seed was removed! And don’t leave out a single detail!”  

            Leaning into her wheelchair, Lady Adriana smiles at the exhausted Faith, and rubs her shoulder supportively. Looking at her watch, Faith can hardly believe she’s been chatting with this old woman nearly all night. “It’ll be okay. Kayla seems to have a strong spirit, and she’ll eventually come out of this okay. Just put your love behind her, and things will work themselves out as they should.” Half-heartedly, Faith nods in agreement, and tries to smile. From behind Lady Adriana, her assistant says, “We need to get going my Lady. It’s nearly midnight, and Faith has to work in the morning. She’s a police officer for this city, remember.” Nodding, she’s suddenly overcome by a thought in her head. “Ah… see! Faith, only fate could have gotten you here. You were meant to have fought beside the other slayer, on that fateful day, but you didn’t. Now you can’t avoid your next opportunity, as it will be this Earth’s last one…” In an eerie moment, Lady Adriana momentarily enters a prophetic mode and says in a low voice, “…and the Hell Mouth will once again have a sentinel to guard against the night.” The three Wiccans’ blood turns ice cold at the elder’s prophetic words, and they look to each other to verify they had heard her correctly.

 

**September 27, 2032**

**Sunnydale (2:30am)**

 

            A thunderous bellow of laughter rips thru the dark library, unsettling Gowen. Shifting in place, he nervously scratches at his backside and waits for his master to address him. It takes numerous minutes for his master regain his composure, and to finally look at his small band of sages. Along with Gowen, Tweela, and Dumut, in their ranks were the dozen other unmentioned researchers who steadfastly scoured thousands upon thousands of books for all the clues to the Alticia scroll’s purpose and location. Gowen was acutely aware that Felix Marlow resembled a human even less, as each day passed. Only the immense power of their true master, could alter Felix this much. Gowen understood better than his colleagues what the fate of Felix would soon be. With the Alticia scrolls, they’d be able to bring back their master’s soul and power to this world, once again. Gowen also was sure that Felix knew his fate too and fully accepted and encouraged it. When their master returned, he would inhabit Felix’s body. Once in this realm, he would replace Felix’s genetic codes with his own. Felix will cease to exist, and their master would be reborn on the Earth.

            Looking up, Gowen looks towards Felix as he’s addressed. Felix, truly overjoyed by the turn of events, says jovially, “And she was the Child of Light? That’s fantastic! Did you confirm her death?” Gowen turns to Dumut, who flushes in terror as he was hoping to avoid answering that question. “Uhh, no… she had lost almost all of her blood, but she somehow survived.”

            A goblet filled with rich wine, clunks off the side of Dumut’s head. Flinching, he rubs the impact area and looks away submissively. Felix screams out, “And yet she lives! Your incompetence is unforgivable! Tweela, sees her opportunity for advancement present itself. “But master, she is in a coma, and their doctors report she won’t recover from the brain damage.” Gowen and Dumut look to her in shock, as she continues. “Furthermore, she is showing every sign that she’ll never reawaken; and if we act carefully, we can ensure that she never does.” Felix stares coldly at Tweela, waiting for her to back down, and breaks the stare with an abrupt growl. “Gowen, she’s trying to get your job… and she’s about there. I think you found your new librarian for the Great Hall. She’s outdone herself; she’s both ruthless and wise. As the saying goes, keep your friends close, but your enemies even closer. She’s a wise choice, and I’ll back your decision, if you choose her. Okay, you all didn’t recover all of the gold, but you did get two of the chests. Consider those two your bonuses and a partial advance. When the time comes you will finish what was started and the child won’t be a factor when our plan blossoms. Understand?” Nodding dumbly, Gowen and Tweela bow as Felix rises from his wooden throne. As he leaves the room, he pauses momentarily to relish in the freakish screams of Dumut, as his very brethren unsheathe their daggers and stab him repeatedly. Striding down the hall, Felix lets the whimpering squeals of Dumut improve his mood, until there’s only silence behind him.

           

**September 27, 2032**

**San Angeles, (8:30am)**

 

            Entering the room, Lady Adriana moves with aged grace and zeal towards the comatose girl. Rounding the corner of the curtain, she starts jumping up and down in joy. “It’s her! It’s really her: the sleeping child who can only be reawakened by a blessed sacrifice!” Her joy and laughter drains away, as she truly sees what everyone else sees. Her mood shifts dramatically, and turns pitifully remorseful. Almost immediately, tears stream from her eyes and she drops onto the bed. Grasping Kayla’s hand, she raises it to her face and cries into. Willow joins the woman to comfort her, but is surprised as she pushes her away and gasps in sorrow. “The pain… she suffered so much. The love she radiated, yet was tortured endlessly for it. She disconnected her love and compassion to hide her purity, and then couldn’t find a means to reconnect it. The demon fruit was destroying her, but she couldn’t perceive it. If only I could have come sooner.” Sobbing at Kayla’s Side Lady Adriana spends countless hours futilely chatting with the unconscious Kayla.

            Willow exits Kayla’s room, leaving the elder still chattering endlessly. Sitting beside the exhausted Tara, Willow collapses onto Tara’s shoulder, aggravated and hurt. She mews, “You’d think I tried to destroy the world or something by the way she treats me. I don’t know what gives.” Comforting her, Tara replies: “Hey at least you exist. Apparently I’m not supposed to be here or something, remember?” Nodding Willow lets Tara help her up and they wander down to the cafeteria to grab a bite.

 

            Hours pass slowly for Willow and Tara listening to the Elder Adriana carry on endlessly with the comatose Kayla. As if she had said all she could, she stands and allows her handsome assistant to guide her away. In the hall she stops to give the dumbfounded pair her final blessings. “Young Wiccans. There will be only dark days lying in your future, here.” She turns to leave, but stops abruptly and stares intently at them. “I charge you both one task and one task alone. Protect Kayla’s body until the dark sun has risen in the west. When that has happened, there will be little either of you can do. Leave her, and see to the defense of the city. I can tell you no more. If there is a miracle left in this world, then our sun will rise again.”  Not waiting to see or hear their responses, Adriana turns away and strides out into the night. Willow turns to Tara after a long uncomfortable silence, and says matter-of-factly, “Well, at least she acknowledged us.”

 

            From the chatter of the bull pit, Faith broods over her burdening situation. Flipping through the wanted sheets on her computer, Faith half-heartedly taps the keyboard built into the desk. Tapping endlessly at the police report forms, she tries to put into words the previous night’s events. Words like ‘vampire’ and ‘demons’ are difficult to replace for the ‘official’ reports. After she takes Lt. Huxley’s advice on the vocabulary revisions, as she called them, Faith sends the report to her for final evaluation and processing. Unable to dismiss the chaos of the last week, Faith finally sends off the last report with an hour to spare. Having worked through lunch, she stops into the Chief’s office to politely beg to get out of work early. He puts on his toughest grimace to the thought of ‘cutting out’ early, and reviews her lengthy reports. Unable to find any significant faults, he mentions half a dozen minor discrepancies in wording and murmurs, “Fix those items then go home. And… uh… I’m sorry. I don’t think I told you that yet, and I should have. When you’re done, just leave them in my inbox. Be well.” Nodding numbly, Faith returns to her desk, knocks out the corrections in a couple of minutes, and slips away to the hospital. After checking in with the head nurse, Faith wanders into the room, and sets a gym bag beside Kayla. Unconcerned with who hears her, she scoots up a chair to the bed, so she can sit beside Kayla’s head.

            “Well, I brought you a change of clothes; I remember how much you hate those stupid hospital gowns. I even brought your favorite red Reeboks from storage. They finally got around to releasing all of your stuff from lock up. It was left in a warehouse that was half buried during that big earthquake we slept through. It took a bit of digging, but I got all of our stuff, not just the small personal effects. I know you really don’t care, but I got them to look into overturning your conviction. I made one call to your old lawyer, and she filed the paperwork through a friend of hers. Apparently they have some legal precedent, and she thinks that it’ll just go through with no litigation. Basically they’ll clear your name, and the state has to pretty much kiss your ass from now on. They weren’t supposed to suppress a lot of the evidence they did, and there’s some major connections proving that they were operating outside of the law. You were railroaded from the beginning. And after the big quake, they never thought anyone would care. The judge was arrested a few years after the quake for accepting bribes and illegally suppressing or denying valid evidence to guarantee convictions. On tape he admitted to have done it his entire career. With that, your conviction will probably be overturned, and they won’t go for a retrial considering no one but you are still alive. To top it off, the crap you went through at the state hospital will weigh heavily in your favor. It’s a big black eye for the state. A records review should cover it, and I’ll be there to personally vouch for you. Oh, as will Lenina, John, Alicia, and even the chief said he’d go on record attesting your moral character. You did it kiddo. You really fucking did it. All you have to do now is just wake up so I can take you home…” Faith can barely continue with tears raining down her cheeks. Wiping them away, she lays her head against Kayla’s shoulder and tries to gain some comfort from Kayla’s presence.  

 

 

**September 28, 2032**

**2500 miles North West of San Angeles, (14:10pm)**

 

              From inside the cargo bay of the aircraft, Katya Reminov finishes reviewing the sealed files of the Watchers Council, for the third time. Staring intently at the brunette from her dreams, she looks up from her laptop and turns to her trusted watcher, asking sardonically, “And you were planning on telling me about this other slayer when?” The grimace on his face tells he’s walking a tightrope between loyalties. “My little Katya, if it were only that simple. She’s a convicted murderer, who we imagined never being released from prison. Somehow her parole was approved, despite our specific opposition. The city government of San Angeles, as they now call it, is… unique. And to top it off, the city’s utopian image has been in upheaval since it was overthrown. The good news is that it appears her confinement has reformed her; she’s a temporary police officer for the city. Another piece of good news is that she’s apparently aligned herself with a coven of witches who live in the city; the coven has an excellent reputation with the council, and is on top of the events brewing at the Hell-mouth site. But the council feels they might not welcome an unfamiliar Slayer, suddenly appearing out of no where.” Nodding, Katya tries to see the wisdom in their recommendations but it sneaks past her. “Recommendations noted. Well, I’m approaching overload.” Katya glances at her rugged watch. “I suggest getting a nap in before we hit the drop site. We should be well rested before then. Make sure you pass out the city passes and passports we got from the United States embassy. If we’re separated, we’ll meet up at the Taco Bell, and head out from there.” Not waiting to hear his response, she leaves his side and crawls into a non-private bunk bed and drifts immediately into sleep.

 

As before, her dreams turn to visions of the impending battle and her final moments on this earth. With the Demon landing to her rear, she wills herself to get clear and grasp the dropped sword. Unlike her previous vision, the carnage pauses like a movie stuck on a single frame. Frozen in place, she’s helplessly leaning forward to grasp the hilt, and unable to move. The sword, just a hands length away, might as well be miles while she’s in her frozen state. Out of nowhere, the girl suddenly appears before the sword and reaches down to pickup the sword. Tucking the blade behind her, she reaches out and takes Katya’s outstretched hand. Her touch releases her from her paralysis, and she’s able to stand erect. Looking down at the child, she wants to thank her, but the words fail her. Thousands of questions flood her, but she can’t make up her mind which one to ask first. Before she chooses one, the child speaks to her. “You must recover my sword. I buried it for safe keeping long ago. When the time comes, I will lead you to it, and you will carry it into battle. For this, I ask you to believe if there were any other way to spare your life in this battle, I wouldn’t ask you to surrender yourself. But your sacrifice will save countless lives, not to mention the world; and I will allow a piece of you to live on. Another slayer will follow you, and one will be here in your place, as the ancient ones decreed at the dawn of man. I will be reborn with your sacrifice and the Earth will be given another 5000 years of life. Evil will be defeated, and you will go to a better place for your selflessness. That I have seen.” She smiles warmly and rubs Katya’s hand. “So many questions, so little time. I will find you when you get closer and take you to the place. Sleep now… rest.” As if dunked in a pool, her surroundings change to her home and the family she left behind to be a slayer. The warmth of her mother and father’s love fill her, and she feels at ease and whole.

 

 

**September 28, 2032**

**San Angeles, (15:30pm)**

 

            Appearing at the Rosenberg’s apartment with her hair still dripping and her shirt clinging to her damp skin, Faith strolls in and asks, “Okay this had better be good! I barely had time to dry off before getting here because you said it was an emergency.” Willow replies, “Well it is…” She immediately notices Faith’s lack of undergarments, in their crispy cool air-conditioned apartment. “Uh… maybe emergency wasn’t the right word, but it’s definitely urgently important. Gritting her teeth, Faith finds a clear spot on the couch and plops down, crossing her arms. Tara takes off where Willow was leading.

            “Over the last week, all of the vampires, demons, trolls, you name it, have been massing in the remains of Sunnydale. Yesterday, one of my sources was been able to get away long enough to warn me of this, and give us some specifics. Remember when we told you how Buffy died and everything? Well it appears that we didn’t dispose of the demon’s body right, or a piece of him survived somehow. Well, he was able to resurrect himself; and in three days, he’ll have to conduct a ceremony to finalize his return. If not, he’ll be stuck in between our world and his world forever, neither here nor there.”

            Willow chimes in upon returning from adjusting the thermostat, “I’ve been in touch with the council, and they agree with our analysis of the demon. They say they’ve sent reinforcements, but wouldn’t give any specifics. Not even who or when. Very weird.”

            Lacey exits the kitchen and passes Faith some coffee, and says: “As usual, more like. They act like they have to control every miniscule aspect, and keep the rest of us in the dark.” Faith takes the cup, and replies, “I’m with you on that. I remember that those ass... jerks were always doing that, even when B was running the show. Right Willow?”

            Nodding, Willow crosses the room and joins Tara on the couch. “Oh yah. I remember Buffy getting the exact same cold shoulder from these people; it’s like they are afraid to admit that we might be more important than they are.”

            Faith sips at the hot tea, and finally asks the obvious question. “So what next? Did the council say to wait for backup or take care of it ourselves in the mean time?” A ghastly silence enters the room. No one seems to want to respond, but Willow chugs ahead. “Faith, when I said all of the monsters, I meant ALL of them. There must be thousands, maybe tens of thousands.” Everyone watches Faith’s blood drains away, as she finally unravels the true meaning of her horrific nightmares. From the great battle with demon hordes, to her final minutes on this earth, everything was suddenly obvious. She finally breaks away from her revelation by saying, “Damn. Normal swords won’t affect him, right?” Willow responds by grimacing, “Kinda, but it was only after I did my little number on him. He was weakened enough that we were able to get close enough to press our attacks, and dismember him. It seemed like only after he was critically injured could we really put it to him, so to speak.” Tara interjects abruptly, “What we need are real weapons. The glow-rods, utilized now, are practically useless.” Faith nods, while intently reliving something from her dark past. As Lacey offers to try and get some shipped here through the old black market routes, Faith suddenly blurts out grabbing everyone’s attention. “Kayla. Kayla had a sword that we buried the night before we turned ourselves in. It was a samurai kind of sword, I think you call it a katana?” Everyone’s attention turns to her outburst, and the minor glimmer of hope it offers. Silence rings out, and is broken by Lacey who asks, “Please tell me it wasn’t in Sunnydale.” Faith shakes her head and replies, “Nope right here in L.A. or at least what use to be here. Kayla had me remember exactly where it was in case she couldn’t retrieve it herself. Funny huh?”

Lacey stands and fetches a map. Laying it across Willow’s table, she lays a transparent map of the current layout of the city and its perimeters. As she points out the location, Faith can’t help but to dwell on the turn of events, and how her nightmares are becoming more like prophecies. After Lacey calculates it’s distance and precise location, she points out the bad news. “That’s the worst place to go, too. Even with you being a cop, we’ll need a special travel order to get access to that zone. There have always been a lot of ‘dog’ attacks after dark in that area; and four years ago, they restricted all travel there. Werewolves for some reason love that area, and packs use those old mausoleums as dens.” Faith curses under her breath, and replies: “I don’t care about that. If she has a weapon, we’re going to need everyone we can dig up. I had to memorize the name on the headstone and the cemetery number, and I’m going to get it for her, if nothing else.”

            Willow immediately injects, “You will, we just have to wait until morning. By then the wolves won’t be a factor, and you can get a travel order from your work. It’ll take an hour to get there, and if we leave early, we’ll get there by mid morning. Faith nods, and jumps ahead in her thoughts. “Or I can call work right now, and get that travel order for the morning, so we can get there just after sunrise. I meet you here at 5 am.”

Sprinting out of the apartment, she calls the department and easily arranges the travel order; but she discovers getting the sword back into the city wasn’t an easy task. By coordinating with Lenina, the Queen of Contraband, she was able to get the necessary forms approved and filed just as the business day ended for the city. Logging off of her computer, Faith gathers her stuff and leaves the Bull Pen. Unlocking her car, she instinctively spins around, grabs the shirt of the person sneaking up on her, and throws him onto the hood of her car. Romero throws his hands in front of his face, protecting him from any further bashing. With anger rising from the pit of her stomach, she seethes, “Get lost!” Yanking him upright, she shoves him aside. Stumbling backwards against another car, he replies: “I was just going to tell you… sorry. Sorry I got in between you and Kayla, and sorry about Kayla. I heard all about it. I don’t know why I acted how I did, and I can’t understand who I was, or the whys, but I do know I’m sorry. I’d tell her myself, but now I can’t. So, now I tell you. I’m sorry for what I did, and if I could take it back I would. Please believe me that I have no idea why I acted like I did; it’s like I was trapped inside myself, and I couldn’t stop it. Please tell Kayla I’m sorry. I… I won’t bother you two anymore.”

Watching him walk away defeated, Faith stares at him a bit longer than she should have. Some part of her knew he was sincere, but the core of her being hated him to terrible extremes. He drifts to his car, and speeds away. Out of sight and out of her life for good. Sliding into her car, Faith knows she was harsher than she should have been, but she can’t live with pain she put Kayla through. Just being near him, causes her stomach to churn, and adrenaline to pump into her veins. Breathing deeply, she forces the anger to subside and shifts her focus to the next morning.

 

**September 28, 2032**

**San Angeles, (21:30pm)**

 

            Landing hard, Katya rolls along the ground, releases her chute, and finally coming to an abrupt halt against a tree stump. Cursing loudly, she kicks away from the obstruction and suddenly finds herself face to face with a magnificent white owl. Nearly three feet tall, it stands on the stump casually admiring Katya’s rough landing. Realizing it’s completely out of place, Katya stares intently at it. As if listening to her thoughts the owl spins its head around to capture Katya’s glare. Minutes pass; and when she considers the foolishness of her endeavors, she’s suddenly rewarded by the owl momentarily resembling the child from her dreams. Her heart nearly skips a beat, and she twitches backwards reflexively. As the last of her team hit the ground, Katya backs away and collects her gear, while keeping an eye on the perched bird. Unlocking the three large pallets, Petre along with a dozen other soldiers from the Watchers Council inventory the weapons and begin unpacking the ATVs. Katya checks her weapons and strides to Petre’s side. “Petre, got a bike ready to go yet?” Looking over his shoulder, he murmurs: “Yes, number three and five’s power cells are fully charged. HEY! Demitre! Get geared up!” Katya spins in her tracks in protest. “Stand down, I’m going out alone!” Petre defies her by commanding: “Not this time! By your orders earlier, ‘no one will venture off by themselves for any reason.’ Remember saying that? Well, you fall under those same rules.” Katya rebuts immediately, “I didn’t say that.” Petre, unimpressed, staunchly resists her ignorance. Giving in, Katya reluctantly surrenders and says to Demitre: “Fine, but don’t do or say anything unless I TELL YOU TO! Got it?” Nodding, he gets his rifle, and hops on one of the ready ATVs. Katya grabs a foldable shovel, hops onto the four-wheeler, and leads Demitre to the waiting owl. Wanting to ask the purpose of waiting at the owl, he wisely stays quiet. Coming alongside the owl Katya says blandly, “Well, I’m ready.” As if on cue, the owl suddenly explodes into flight and Katya spins off in pursuit with her companion in tow.

            Arriving at a cemetery, Katya drives into it and arrives at a crumbling headstone. The owl, nobly perched atop, watches as Katya and her escort drive up to it. Shifting nervously back and forth, the owl waits for Katya to approach despite the howls of wolves not too far away. Looking around suspiciously, Katya murmurs to her companion to cover her, as she strides towards the grave stone with shovel in hand. Stopping at the foot of the grave, Katya watches the bird jump to the ground and paces around the plastic flowers. After ripping away the plastic flowers, molded and discolored from ages of neglect, the owl begins pecking at the cup itself. After a minute of this, the owl stops, flies back up to its previous perch, and looks to Katya to act. Shrugging her shoulders, she unfolds the shovel, locks it into place, and puts her back into digging.

            After ten minutes of digging, she finally gets two feet down and hits a wooden box. Digging around it, she’s able to pull it free after another five minutes. The box, nearly six feet long, practically falls apart as she brings it out of the ground. Cursing for not having the right tools, she uses the shovel to break the latch on the lock. With a loud metallic crack, the pieces shoot in all directions and she cracks the lid open. Wrapped in two long plastic bags, Katya tears it open to find the sword to be an old Japanese Katana. Whistling through her teeth, she snaps out of her awe, as a howl erupts only a hundred yards away. Looking up, she sees half a dozen werewolves charging towards her. Gunfire erupts from her friend, but it doesn’t seem to slow any but two. As she contemplates reaching for her guns, she feels compelled to draw the sword instead. The owl, seemingly unaffected by the rising danger, bursts into flight and perches safely atop a high branch. Katya grasps the hilt and is surprised in the ease which the blade clears the scabbard; the blade seems almost weightless in her hand. Setting the empty scabbard down, she walks to a small clearing and waits for the wolves to arrive. As they get closer, the wolves split into pairs and they seek a quick meal. As the first wolf nears Katya it suddenly leaps to pounce on Katya, but only meets the cold steel across its belly, spilling its guts along its path of travel. Even as the first wolf crashes and collapses across the ground, the second barely misses Katya and feels a light strapping blow across its back. It spins around to get a quick nip at its target, but panics as it sees its rear half landing on the ground beside it. Katya spins to meet the wolves that got past her and is shocked to see the carnage. She spends countless moments in disbelief looking at the sword. Gunfire to her left snaps her out of it, as her partner sends out a continuous stream of bullets at the wolves surrounding him. Screaming defiantly, Katya charges and draws them away from the man. As easily as the first two, the next two offer no extraordinary difficulty to dispatch. Without a scratch on either of them, Katya retrieves the scabbard, bows slightly towards the perched owl, and gets onto her ATV. Pulling into the temporary base camp, Petre asks, “How was the ride?” Katya smirks and replies, “They run nice and smooth, five by five.” As she strides into the weapons locker, she can’t imagine where she’d gotten those words from.

 

**September 28, 2032**

**San Angeles, (22:25am)**

 

            Katya sits at the aluminum conference table studying the ancient Japanese weapon, while Petre rambles on about the disheartening photos emailed to him from satellites and remote recon planes. As he pulls more and more experts around his laptop to decipher which blob is what, he slowly pears around the display to see Katya completely disinterested in the ranks of trolls and monsters massed in the forgotten rubble of Sunnydale California. The numbers exceed the tens of thousands. With his curiosity peaking, he manages to ask his slayer from around his display, “How did you find that again?” Barely registering his question, she brings herself out of delirium to mumble simply: “A little bird told me.”

 

 

**September 29, 2032**

**San Angeles, (07:20am)**

 

            Using a GPS hand-held tracker, Lacey leads Faith through a collapsed portion of the cemetery wall, where Faith instinctively takes over. Picking up her pace Faith strides around the headstones and graves and enters CityCemetery number fifteen. Leaving Lacey behind she plows ahead but stops abruptly, allowing her to catch up. Whistling through her teeth, Lacey evaluates the carnage, and hesitantly makes her way out to each of the six naked bodies. Shooing away the scavenging birds and animals, she takes out her pocket scanner and verifies her initial thoughts. Returning to Faith’s side, she says bluntly: “Werewolves.”

            Faith looks at her with a peculiar expression, picks up a stick, points at the halved body, and replies, “Werewolves did this? I know I was in the freezer for a while, but when did werewolves go around using swords or machetes?”

            Lacey shakes her, as if clearing her last thoughts from head. “No… the bodies. They were werewolves.” After showing Faith the display on her palm scanner, she continues. “They are all highly infected with lycanthropy bacterium. They’ve been werewolves for a long time; the contagion is deep in the bone marrow. This went down about 8 to 12 hours ago. Two people, I’d say, wearing military boots. They had conventional automatic rifles and one really sharp sword. Faith nods her head of her assessment, and says, “Yup. Looks like the person with the sword, did most of the work, though…” She trails off remembering the purpose of their morning trip. “SHIT! Kayla’s sword!” Sprinting over the headstones, she arrives at the lonesome grave of one Lieutenant Pauline Schultz. Lacey scans the epitaph:

Born the first day of April,1969

 and left this world on June 30, 1999.

 She lived her life making it safer

for the ones who will follow.’

Her eyes shoot immediately to the cup which the flowers were normally placed. The dirt, piled all around an empty hole, tells Faith that the hidden treasure had been reaped only recently. Faith can only say one thing: “FUCK!!!!”

            As faith rants, kicks, and screams, Lacey meanders around the area and finds the fresh tire tracks leading off towards the south. In between Faiths screaming and cursing, Lacey gets an edge in and yells, “Hey! We need to get going. If we’re not back soon, all hell will break loose. So much for all that paperwork you did.”

            Still enraged by the loss of the sword, Faith smashes a branch against the wall and storms into the van. Jumping into the driver’s seat, Lacey tears away from the cemetery unsure what how the future will fair without the sword.

 

            Decked out in her black police uniform, Faith strides thru the halls of the station, passing countless dazed and perplexed officers. The atmosphere of the station reeked utter turmoil and fear. The intense gaze Faith gave off, usually capable of parting the Red Sea, is completely ignored by her counterparts. Bursting thru the Bull Pen doors, this attention grabbing action goes completely ignored by the room of officers. As she scans the room, Officer Huxley grabs her arm, and drags her into her office. Dressed in Kevlar riot gear, she forces a large box into Faith’s arms.

            “Get suited up! We’re going to form up in fifteen minutes.” Officer Huxley says while urgently showing Faith how to don the body armor. “While you were gone, we’ve received a number of warnings from the Governor in the last two hours. They’ve rallied the National Guard north of here in New Bakersfield, East in Barstow, and as far south as Old San Diego to contain the insurgents. The military can’t rally enough troops to drop here before night fall, so they are pretty much writing us off. They said if we can make it thru the night, they’ll consider dropping in a brigade or something like that.”

            Synching up the armor, Faith shakes her head trying to make sense of the entire turn of events. “But how did this all happen? When did they get there…” She doesn’t finish her sentence as she remembers the great massing of demons and monsters in Sunnydale. Following Lenina into the Bull Pen area, Chief Earle is approaching burnout and struggles to keep himself composed. With the arrival of Officers Spartan and Hernandez, the chief beckons the crowd of officers to quiet so he can speak. Referencing a series of overhead displays he begins.

            “In the last twelve hours there have been an extraordinary series of events. If anyone has kept up on their local folklore, you know just south of here was the infamous Sunnydale, destroyed during the Great Quake.” Lenina feels obligated to fill in the history.

            “It was rumored to have been the murder capitol of the west, and had the largest number of missing person reports per capita. Furthermore…” The chief cuts her off before she can continue.

            “Thank you Officer Huxley. Anyways, satellite pictures from the FBI have shown a great number of unknown assailants massing in the ruins. They have advised us that they are not friendly, and we should expect them to attack the city by nightfall, four hours from now. The military has conducted numerous air strikes, but all have been inexplicably ineffective. The earliest troops can arrive here is by 0800 tomorrow. At this time they have taken up positions to our north, east, and south to contain the assailants when they pass through our city.”

            The room erupts in verbal pandemonium, as the officers struggle to cope with the desperation of their situation. Once again the chief screams to regain order so he can continue.

            “Listen everyone! That maybe their plan, but ours is quite different. We have issued a complete lockdown of the city. All residents in the eastern zones will stay in their homes, while we evacuate the southern and western zones to San Angeles Central Hospital. That structure can house the majority of the residents in their fallout shelters, and we intend to make this our fallback position. City planners have spent all afternoon reinforcing the hospital district, and we believe this will be our strongest defendable position. If these assailants get past us, no one in the city can be saved.”

            John Spartan keeps anyone from speaking, by immediately interjecting, “Listen up! This is our only hope if we want to save our city, and I’m not interested in giving it up that easily. We have taken all the weapons from the museum, and made as many as we could serviceable, but that’s only a hundred or so. On the bright side, we requisitioned the armor you’re wearing today from the museum’s overflow warehouse. This riot gear will protect you from small arms fire, and the average rock thrown, but nothing more. We’ve labeled the hospital rally point, for obvious reasons, the Alamo. When we give that signal, this will be where we fall back to. We will resist along your given sectors; but when you’re told to fallback by your team leaders, don’t hesitate to do so. We don’t have enough personnel to realistically secure our borders, but we’ll wear them down. Hopefully by the time they get to the hospital, they’ll be too worn out to effectively fight. We’ve discussed this with the military, and they believe that this is the best plan under our current situation.”

            As the chief tries to explain to the vast number of questions his officers inundate him with, Lenina motions for Faith to follow her back to her office. Officer Spartan joins them a minute later, accompanied with Officer Hernandez. Lenina begins as the door closes.

            “All right, we have our zones to cover, and Faith I’ve been told that you’re not to report to your zone. For reasons that are beyond our understanding, the chief was instructed by the governor himself to release you from duty. The chief was speechless for once and the governor gave no details, other than you’re to have unlimited access to and from the city. I don’t suppose you want to share any insight into this?”

            Faith finds herself compelled to remain silent, as her heart aches to be honest with her newly found friends. “I’m sorry, but some things are just too complicated to explain, like my other life when I’m not arresting bad guys, is a bit too…complicated for a quick explanation. It’s something that I have no choice to do…it’s my job.” Faith turns to exit quickly, but hesitates at the door. She turns back to her dumbfounded friends and colleagues for some parting words. “I’m not good at this. I mean that I always seem to find myself running from this sort of thing, but this time I’m actually doing the exact opposite. Lenina, you have been the greatest friend I could ever ask for. John, thank you for showing me that I wasn’t just some stupid punk, not worth the time of day. I…I don’t know if I’ll make it back here by morning, but I want you to know that’s because I can’t, not because I’m too scared to face up to my future. If I don’t make it back, please tell Kayla that…that…well, you get the idea.” Faith turns and runs out the Bull Pen before anyone can respond or stop her.            

 

Assembling at Willow and Tara’s apartment, Faith changes out of the riot gear into more flexible and comfortable attire: her black leather pants and a black sleeveless shirt. Keeping her police issue steel toed boots, she leaves the rest of it in the apartment and flops onto the Rosenberg’s ultra comfortable couch. Waiting for the coven to finish packing their books and gear, Faith finds her thoughts drifting not to the imminent battle, but the defenseless Kayla lying in the hospital. Fishing out a locket of Kayla’s hair in her pocket, she treasures the token of Kayla’s love and tries to use it to regain her focus for the coming battle. As the four run to their waiting van, Willow explains how they didn’t make a mistake in the spell casting when they first fought the demon.

“So you see, it didn’t matter that we didn’t make any mistakes, if we didn’t consecrate every major part of the demon. Blood aside, we thought we’d gotten everything, but it turns out we had missed one of its hands. Don’t ask me how we missed it, but we did. I guess we were really stressed, and got clumsy. This time, we won’t let that happen.” Willow is interrupted by Tara who interjects in a promising tone.

“Even better, the Watcher’s Council said they’ve sent a special ops unit to meet us at the site. They also confirmed that they sent the Raven Claw Coven from England, and they too will meet us there to help us with the casting.” Tara’s voice seems to trail off as Faith is lost in thought.

Almost in an epiphany, Faith realizes that there’s more to lose if the hordes of monsters and demons make it to the Hospital. As the van passes the side entrance of the hospital, Faith screams out to stop the van. Screeching to a halt, Faith looks to Lacey and says, “Look, there’s going to be enough witches there to shake a stick at right?” Not waiting for a response Faith urgently continues. “One more isn’t going to make a difference there, but one witch here at the hospital could save hundreds if not thousands of lives. These guys will be defenseless against just one evil demon who uses magic, right.” Willow jumps into the discussion by saying, “Well, most demons don’t use magic very often…” This time Lacey is the one who adds her two bits worth. “Mom, she’s got a point. They don’t stand a chance against just one magic flinging monster, and the possibility that at least one of them can cast a flame snake, would just decimate their morale and ranks. Faith’s right. I need to stay here, at least one of us should, that is.”

Tara looks at her watch as the seconds tick by and waits silently as she faces off against her adopted daughter. Huffing, she admits that they are right, and shakes her head. “Those witches better know their crap, or we’re screwed.” Pointing to the entrance of the hospital, she directs Tara to drive by the ambulance entrance; and after letting Lacey exit, they are speeding towards the western gate out of town.

Without a conventional engine in the van, Faith can not quite get the feeling of their urgency from the sound of the van alone. Faith finds her thoughts drifting back to Kayla’s situation at the hospital, and she longs to have her at her side at this battle. With the visions of imminent death and destruction still fresh on her mind, sleeping was not something she longed for often. Willow and Tara chatter endlessly about spell tactics, and Faith feigns sleep to keep from showing her pain and fear. Thoughts of how to defeat this monstrosity flash through her head, but the vision of Kayla’s sword keeps worming in. Faith’s last thoughts are of panic as the van tumbles end over end and the world around her is swallowed by a black void.


	5. Chapter 5

# Part 5

**September 29, 2032**

**San Angeles, (6:35PM)**

 

            Lacey, after checking in with her section, helps with preparations until the only tasks remaining are mundane and busywork. Leaving her pager number at the desk, she meanders to the roof. Looking over the edge, she sees the final rays of the sun fade in the west and small flames skirting up over the horizon. As the sun’s fading light disappears, the small flickering flames increase in intensity and number. Like the march of a plague of diabolic locusts, the flames get closer as the minutes pass. Lacey suddenly realizes she’d almost stopped breathing, and gasps for a breath. With horror, she sees the flames reach the outer wall of the city and stop abruptly. Sirens erupt verifying her thoughts, and after twenty minutes the sirens are silenced forever as the flames leak inside the city. Solemnly, she watches the flames spread to buildings and structures inside the city, and chaos wraps its wicked wings over the utopian society.

 

            Faith wakes from a brutal slap across her face, ripping her out of unconsciousness. Reaching up, she wipes the blood dribbling from her lip and anger burns brightly on her face. In response, laughter carries on the air, as a jovial chorus passes the mirth through their ranks. Faith looks over thousands of demonic and pseudo-human guises lapping up her anger and pain. She looks herself over and discovers her police-issue armor is only a memory, and all she has to protect her are her slayer skills. Fortunately she was left with the benefit of clothes; so her modesty, though never having been an issue with her before, remains intact. As she realizes her nightmares have now come to life, she tries to get to her feet to stand tall against insurmountable odds. She holds her breath, hoping the dreams weren’t entirely accurate; but as the first wave of demons charge forth, she knows that this will be a long hard fight. Stealing glances at the master of ceremonies, the demon from her flashback dream of Buffy’s murder, sits amused and at ease on his ornately decorated throne of human bones and skulls. Many of the bones still have sinew and chunks of flesh and hair attached, adding to the gruesomeness of the furniture. At his feet, his long barbed tail swishes back and forth, almost like how a cat might absently flip it around. Gripping a chalice of wine, he downs the contents in between the waves of demons, thoroughly enjoying the carnage of his own minions. As soon as the chalice is emptied, a small servant appears from behind the throne and refills the cup, and disappears once again.

 

            Willow Rosenburg wakes to see a dark-clothed woman kneeling over her. Her short sandy-brown hair is barely concealed under a black military cap. Still bewildered from the accident, she doesn’t stop the young woman’s gentle application of first aid. Despite the continuous spinning and the young woman’s insistent badgering in Russian, Willow forces herself to get to a sitting position. Just as her heart begins to race, it calms immediately seeing her true love, Tara, coming to. Covered with as many bumps and bruises and she does, Willow relaxes slightly and glances over at the remains of the van. With the right-side cargo door missing and the passenger door ajar, she imagines they should be happy that they’re even alive. Regretting that she should have taken a foreign language course instead of a teacher’s assistant class in high school, she breathes a sigh of relief as a burly gentleman comes around the van and says in English:

            “Ms. Rosenburg? The council sent us, and not a minute too soon it seems. I’m Peter, this is Claudia our Med Tech, and there are about a dozen more elite troops roving the area. We saw your van was attacked atop the hill; I’m sorry we couldn’t get here sooner. Uhh…where’s your slayer you mentioned? Was she the one we saw carted off?” 

            Willow frantically scours the area, and raises her fist to smash against the ground, but with the increased pounding in her head, convinces herself otherwise.

            “Yah, it appears so. Do you know why they wanted her?”

            Tara interrupts her by saying, “Better yet, do you know where they’ve taken her? If you’ve got all these high tech gadgets, you must be keeping an eye on them.”

            Nodding in agreement, Peter replies: “Yes the slayer is going to rescue her, she was adamant about that point. We need to get into position to cast the purification ritual when they kill him.” Turning to Willow he asks, “Ms. Rosenburg? Are you up to doing some serious offensive spells to back up the slayers? We think there are far too many of them for even two to handle. A division of the beasts has moved against the city; but the majority is staying behind to ensure their master’s ceremony is completed. We need to crash their party, so to speak.” Peter grins smartly and helps Willow to her feet before continuing. “The coven has made it to the site, and is waiting for you two. Let’s go.”

            Willow goes to Tara, having just been helped up, dusts each other off and let their new friends show them to their ATVs. Speeding along the dirt paths, Willow can’t keep up with the numerous directional changes and gives up trying to make sense of the trails. Coming into a clearing, Willow is surprised to see a dozen armed soldiers in black paramilitary uniforms and headsets; she can only imagine what allows them to see in the dark. The tall bearded man, she knows as Peter, leads them to a large metal cargo truck. Leading the way, he stomps up the rear ladder and swings open the door. A crimson aura oozes out of the interior adding to the foreboding feeling throbbing thru everyone’s veins. Closing the door behind them, Willow and Tara’s eyes immediately adjust to the light, and they see the high tech control room of the Watcher’s Council. Towards the front of the front of the room, an elder witch of the Raven Claw coven, casually sips on her tea, Earl Grey Willow assumes. Nodding to the woman, Willow turns her attention to the myriad of display screens before a small female technician, not much older than Faith. Having a similar build and hair as Faith, Willow can not mistake the Russian accent on her speech, as she talks to several different people in both English and Russian. Looking over the satellite telemetry and remote camera views, Willow fights from gasping out in horror to the savage battle scene playing out with Faith; and she bites her lip watching Faith fight off dozens of monsters at a time. Wave after wave charge and try to beat her to death, but somehow Faith endures and defeats each consecutive wave. Willow can’t keep track of the numbers of defeated demons, for as quickly as they fall, demons on the side drag the dead clear of the stage, making room for more. After an eternity of battle, there’s a momentary lull as the dead are once again cleared and four vampires armed with swords spread out around the unarmed Faith. With panic is in her eyes, Faith struggles to keep her eyes on all of her opponents, and Willow feels it course through her, as well.

            “When are you all going to help her! She can’t take much more of this!” The anger and pain in Willow’s voice ricochets off the tight walls of the control room. The technician immediately speaks with an anxious and stress-filled tone. “There she is!” Pointing to the far right corner of her screen, a small parachute drifts away from the stage covering the several onlookers, and the Russian slayer lands alongside faith.

 

            Sighing with some relief as the stocky girl not much older than her falls to her side, Faith helps her to her feet, and smiles. “About time the cavalry showed! Where’s the rest of the troops? How are we getting out of here?”

            In a thick Russian accent, she responds with a broad grin, “This is it! I’m the cavalry you spoke of. My name is Katya…I’m the slayer. You’re Miss Lehane right? A slayer too?”

            Faith nods her head, looks around at the four vampires, and replies, “It’s just Faith. Got it? Don’t suppose you brought another sword did you?”

            Katya shakes her head and meets the charge of the rear swordsman, tumbles under his flurry of strikes, and slices him cleanly in two. His sword tumbles from his disintegrating grasp, and Katya scoops it up before it hits the ground. Tossing it into Faith’s waiting hand, Katya replies smartly, “No, but look what I just found laying around.” Faith tries to steal a glance at Katya’s sword, feeling that it looks extremely familiar to her, but the charge of the other three vampires reprioritizes her attention. Faith is surprised how well she retained her sword skills, as she easily dispatches two of the swordsmen, and finally gets a good look at the glowing sword Katya wields. A mixture anger and happiness overcomes her, realizing that the sword is Kayla’s; the very one which was stolen just that morning. As she wants to vigorously strangle her rescuer, she has to abandon that thought as the nine-foot tall demon leaves his bone throne, and stomps towards them. In a heavy booming voice, he bellows:

            “ENOUGH!!! You two have entertained my party long enough!” He charges towards the hapless pair, swipes a wing at Faith, deflecting her sword blow, and sending her tumbling head over heels against a wall. Faith’s head spins uncontrollably, and she blinks insistently to clear her vision. Surprised on the effectiveness of this action, Faith feels the strength to rise and stand on her own, maybe taller than she ever has before, despite the strong realization of Déjà vu screaming in the back of her head. As she readies herself to charge, she sees the demon has paid a small price for his attack against her, a clean slice through the largest membrane of his left wing has probably grounded him. The sword Katya wields, though easily cuts his skin, can’t seem to damage the lethal barbs of the tail. Sparks fly as it parries each of Katya’s blows, and his frustration builds steadily. Seeing an opening, Faith leaps in to the flurry, and begins pounding away at his back and wings. He roars out and leaps above the two slayers, landing between them and the edge of the audience. Side by side, Faith and Katya stand ready to receive his next attack, but are completely taken back as the huge monster spreads its wings and bellows out a defiant roar. An obsidian aura flows from him, surrounding him in a black mist of gut wrenching hatred.

Both of the slayers fight the urge to vomit, and Faith drops her sword, as she feels all of her worst fears and pain devour her. Katya’s strength waivers and her sword dips; she’s desperate to stand tall, even with Faith’s sudden retreat behind her. As the demon is enveloped by the blackness, her eyes dart around her, making sure his nefarious barbed tail doesn’t suddenly appear behind her as in her dream. From the dark cloud in front of her, a red streak ejects and she barely raises the blade in time to deflect it off to her left, but a second one moments behind it, strike her in her left shoulder. She reels and spins backwards from the intensity of the blow; her sword slips from her grasp and she watches it in slow motion fall to the ground. Her eyes trace up to her right shoulder to see a foot-long bard imbedded, blood dripping off her finger tips. Her gaze slides back up to see Faith screaming to her, but the pounding in her head blocks her out entirely. She’s hit with another surge of pain and watches her belly explode, as the demon’s tail arrowhead shape protrudes obscenely from her. Lacking the breath to scream, let alone utter a single word, she feels the tail lift her off the ground a few inches. The demon’s wings come to rest on her shoulders, setting her back down and steadying her for the final blow. Tears surge from her eyes, and she prays that she’s wrong. As the tail is pulled back out he way it came, she can’t imagine that amount of pain was ever humanly possible to endure. As the tail and remaining barbs disembowel her, the lethal snapping of her back confirms the worst for her. The demon, having freed its tail, lets Katya fall to the ground in a wet thud. Reveling in the fear emanating from Faith, he cheers triumphantly, knowing victory is mere moments away.

            As her life spills away, Katya looks over to the fallen sword, only an inch from her left hand. Her eyes gradually peer up to look at Faith shedding tears for her. Katya feels the world transition from the darkness of night, to the snowy fields west of Jakutsk, Siberia. As she blinks to clear her failing vision, a small child kneels before her holding the hilt of her sword towards her. Unable to express surprise, Katya looks at it, and then back up at the small white-haired girl. With unmoving lips Katya hears in perfect Russian: “Do you give yourself freely and willingly?” The child stares at her intently, waiting for her response.

            Faith cries, hoping in vain for Katya to throw her the sword, but the demon only bellows out laughter, and begins to slowly and menacingly walk towards her. The blank look in Katya’s eyes, only confirms to Faith that she’s probably dead already. As the demon steps over Katya, he confidently puts himself between Faith and the sword, not stupid enough to actually handle an obvious holy weapon as that. To even lightly grasp such weapon could have unexpected side effects from never ending pain, to permanent disfigurement, to even purification of his vile demon soul. It would be far better to risk one of his lesser minions, than to personally touch the sword, he reasons.

            As the massive demon begins to tower over her, Faith looks back at Katya one last time. As she wants to find a way to deliver a final message to Kayla, her eyes widen as Katya suddenly twitches and blinks. She looks around and eyes the sword only inches from her hand. Finding the strength, she graps the sword with her left hand and roars out, “DAHHHHHHHHH!”

            The demon spins around in time to see Katya holding the sword, before it brilliantly explodes into the purest light he’d ever experienced. His eyes and flesh burn, and he raises his arms to protect his face. Faith instinctively raises her hands to protect her face; but the light penetrates the eyelids, and the most soothing warmth envelopes her. Having all traces of fear and hopelessness washed away, she opens them again and is stunned she can see so clearly. Seeing demon’s skin smoldering and taken aback by the light, she rushes to Katya. As she reaches her, the sword falls from her hand into hers. Once it leaves Katya’s grasp, the light expires, as does Katya. Turning to the Demon, Faith charges and cleaves his tail off immediately, removing his primary defense and weapon. Blind, the demon screams out his final words of defiance, even as his severed head falls to the grounds. Beyond exhaustion, Faith turns the reeling crowd, taken aback by the sudden turn of events. With the majority of the vampires disintegrated by the light, the audience looks for the nearest exits. Heavy machinegun fire erupts from all sides, and demons begin falling in droves. Stepping away from the crowd, Faith goes to the fallen slayer and collapses to her knees. Setting the sword down, she lifts Katya’s head, to see if there’s any remaining sparks of life left in her. Faith can’t hide her disappointment, and she begins weeping once more.

            From the shadows, a shape shoots out towards Faith, and she instinctively rolls away from Katya. Looking at the object, Faith is shocked to see a great-horned owl, of the whitest snow she’s ever seen, standing atop the discarded sword. It hoots at her, and takes to flight; taking the sword with it. Screaming in berserker fashion, Faith looks around for the sword she dropped earlier, and finds it several feet form her. After retrieving it, she looks for the owl, which is nowhere in sight. As Faith curses at the bird, the demon’s who still have half a nerve, attack Faith for killing their master. After half an hour, the last of the demons are filleted and dying memories. When Willow and Tara meet up with her, they exchange hugs and relieved expressions. After being introduced to their Russian friends, all their relief disappears as a light bursts from the city, temporarily turning night to day. 

 

            Streams of gunfire dance across the hundreds of demons and monsters surrounding the hospital. Like an endless river of evil, creatures that fall are replaced just as fast. With ammunition dwindling, and the last of the grenades thrown, the police line waivers, but holds. John Spartan rallies the terrified officers alongside, but the constant onslaught is taking its toll. As the last charge against their lines retreats, Spartan is screaming for additional troops to back his position; but the screams of people from the emergency room police line, and the breaking of glass above, tell him all their attacks here were only diversionary. As he sends a dozen cops to help there, the demons make another thrust on his position and tie him to his post.

 

            Dutifully carrying the sword, the owl glides over the smoky combat zone surrounding the hospital. With blasts from grenades and the fire of bullets, the owl swoops over the hospital and passes the fifteenth room on the third floor. Pumping its wings, it gains altitude and swoops back towards the window. With blinding speed, it zeroes in on the window and draws the sword in line with its body. As it reaches the window, it releases the sword. Sending the sword blade first into the glass, it swoops away as the sword penetrates the glass and the hilt shatters the entire window. Swooping back around, the owl glides through the windowless pane and lands atop the sword lying on the room’s floor. Carefully grasping it with its talons, the owl flaps dramatically and hovers above the bed. Staring at the comatose woman, it releases the sword so that it lands with the blade against her feet, and the hilt resting beside her right hand. Satisfied, it lands on the bed, and walks to Kayla’s right hand. Using its head, it gently pries her fingers open and pulls the sword’s hilt into her lifeless hand. The owl immediately loses its shape and becomes incorporeal. As it melts into the sword, the sword begins to radiate a blue-white light. Illuminating the darkened room, the owl disappears all together, and the sword washes the room with its light. After several minutes, the light retreats, and the room blackens from the night.

As the chaos from outside echoes, Kayla’s hand twitches and her breathing quickens. As her eyes flutter open, she groggily surveys her surroundings and grasps the sword confidently in her hand. Flipping the sheets off her, she sees the closet, and prays that there might be a robe or something stowed within. Closing her eyes, she silently prays that the flexing of her toes isn’t a fluke. Sliding her legs off the edge of the bed, Kayla tentatively slips off the edge of the bed and touches the floor. With all her hopes and dreams, she puts more of her weight on her feet, and feels exhilaration when she stands tall on her own two legs. Walking around the room, she avoids the scattered glass shards, and throws open the closet door. Finding the gym bag of clothes and shoes was something she never imagined. She silently thanks Faith for the bag, knowing all too well how she felt when she came out of her coma. Laying out the sweatpants, t-shirt, under clothes, she quickly changes while listening to the din of battle raging outside. After changing, she slips on her favorite red Reeboks and throws on her hooded sweatshirt. Picking up her gown, she tears off two long strips and ties them to the hilt of the sword making a belt. Satisfied with her handy work, she finds her baseball cap and fixes it atop her head.

    A clamor erupts down the hall, and Kayla carefully closes the door to her room. Just before it latches, she keeps it cracked open to see the source of the noise. An eternity passes until three large shapes come clopping through the staircase door. Barely able to fit through the door, a burly seven-foot tall troll squeezes through, followed by a pair of curly-horned demons. Laughing and carrying on, they look down both ways of the corridor, paying special attention to room numbers, and head towards Kayla’s room. A sharp buzzing in Kayla’s head tells her that they aren’t going to just pass by her room. Resigning to her fate, she pulls open the door and positions herself in the middle of the corridor. With a smug tone, she addresses the trio.

            “Hey! Didn’t anyone tell yah you’re in a hospital? Keep it down!” She exaggerates her movements and shields her eyes, getting a better look at the troll. His leather shirt and pants, as disheveled as his appearance, are tied together by a rope and have not been cleaned since before the cow had a heartbeat. Kayla further tries to bring amusement to her situation. “WOW! Your mommy fed you really good! What where you raised on? Whole cows, or are you just making a fashion statement?”

            The pair of demons look her over cunningly, and seethe, “You shouldn’t be so rude bitch! Just for that, we won’t kill you right away…we’re gonna have a little party first.” His speech obviously does not have the effect he was going for.

            Kayla does a little bounce in place, and cheers, “WEEEEE! I love parties! Cake, ice cream, party hats, it’s all so fun!” Kayla slowly begins to close the distance with the trio. “Hey! You didn’t bring any of that stuff, did you? How are we going to have a party if you didn’t bring any of that stuff?” She casually loosens the knot on the sword, lets one end of the sash fall, and brings the sword up behind her back. “Well you’re in luck! There’s an all night party supply store just three blocks away! If you hurry, we can still have that party.” She continues to walk towards the confused assassins, even as they look to each other for an explanation. The two demons are the first to snap out of her confusing banter, and charge screaming with knives drawn. Kayla sprints towards them and leaps into a flying roundhouse, splitting them apart, and sending them both their separate ways. As one collides with the troll, the other bashes into the wall and drops his rusty dagger. As he raises himself off the floor, he barely registers Kayla’s sword passing through his neck and collapses dead.

            Shaking off his confusion, the troll shoves the demon away from him, sending him into the path of Kayla’s sword. He barely has time to consider ducking, but his hesitation comes with too high of a price. The infuriated troll, charges towards Kayla and misses her. Collapsing the wall beside her, he picks himself up, and releases a guttural scream in frustration. Ducking his wide swing, she strikes him with her fist and he flinches in surprise. Swinging again, Kayla’s fist smacks his grizzly-sized jaw a second time raising his internal temperature further. He screams out his frustration by ripping off his outer shirt and tossing it down. Laughing, Kayla sprints backwards and watches the behemoth lose all grip of his temper. His screaming tantrum only makes Kayla laugh out louder and baiting him to charge; seconds later, she gets what she wants. The thunderous clopping of his boots shakes the floor and he speeds towards the fleeing Kayla.

Kayla skids to a halt in front of the large paned window, over-looking the front entrance of San Angeles Memorial Hospital. Four stories down, police lines clash with thousands of demons and monsters trying to overrun the last vestiges of humanity. Stopping, Kayla spins around and trots towards the massive enraged creature hurtling in her path. As he leaps to crush her by his sheer weight and power, Kayla falls onto her back and effortlessly slides underneath him; Kayla remembers his expression of complete surprise and shock was worth more than all the tea in China. Springing to her feet, she assaults him with a continuous barrage of kicks and punches keeping off balance. With blood streaming off his face, he rocks stunned and confused in front of the window.

 

Officer Spartan can barely handle the deluge of creatures trying to break the police lines, and he brings his fist across the neck of one of countless off-colored humanoids around him. Looking down to make sure it stayed down, John looks up in shock as a window breaks four stories up, pending to rain glass on everyone. Screaming the retreat, John runs to the protection of a cement overhang; police and monsters alike scatter clear of the debris zone. Curious to the cause of the breakage, John peers around and watches a massive shape come down in the middle of the street. John cannot fight the shock of seeing a small woman riding the chest of a nine-foot tall giant. With her foot on his throat and the other on his chest, she holds the arms at bay as the pair plummet. With a concussive thud, the troll crashes into the ground, cracking the cement and sending its rider tumbling to safety. The battle seems to pause seeing the troll fall to his death, and the woman rises tying the hood of her sweatshirt in place. Picking up her sword, she looks to the confused battle line and slowly walks towards the shocked demon masses.

A shudder ripples through their ranks, broken by the charge of four Asian vampires towards her. Dressed as feudal samurai, they scream defiantly, unsheathe their swords, and meet the slow advance of the small girl. Not breaking her stride, she meets every one of their attacks and unceremoniously parries their blows and sends them spinning away and explodes into a cloud of dust. For once since the sun had set, the ragged police officers see a glimmer of hope as the demon army quivers in fear. A snake-like whisper worms through the ranks, festering fear and confusion amongst the demons. Many demons take several steps backwards, while many cowardly types simply turn face and run. Anarchy threatens to wash over the masses, until the obvious leader of the hellish army makes his way to the front and faces the would-be champion of the humans. As tall and wide as a troll, the bull-headed demon snorts his frustration as he shoves his way through the ranks. Dressed in a set of well maintained ring-mail armor, the monster’s scarlet red undercoat shows signs that it too is of finer quality. Brandishing a double-bladed axe twice as big as Kayla, he looks her over and bursts into laughter; the jovial waves echo off the walls of the hospital.

“This is what everyone is afraid of? A meager child of a girl?” Turning to his right, he roars, “Kenny! You’re fired!” Surprised that his second in command  is nowhere to be found, he looks down at the ground harder. Inspecting the lifeless suits of Samurai armor laying at his feet, he counts how many there are and turns back to Kayla. “Hey you wouldn’t be one of those vampire slayers would yah?”

From the police lines, her small voice is lost from the cackle of the demon army; but the majority of the demons hear her all too well. “HAH! If you’d be so lucky! Right now they’re cleaning up your boss, and that leaves all of you for me! If I were you, I’d have chosen to stay behind with your master rather than be here. Tell you what! Because I’m a sweetheart and all, I’ll let you lead this gaggle of losers back from where you came, no questions asked. Under the premise you stay there, of course. ”

            Another burst of laughter erupts from him, with meager support from his troops. “How about this! I just wring the living shit of your scrawny ass, and kill everyone else! How does that sound?”

            Kayla shakes her head, and smiles. “That would be the hard way. Why don’t you guys ever take the easy way out?” As she replies, the demon launches towards her, raising his axe high, and throwing all his strength into a killing blow. Waiting for the last second to move, Kayla simply side steps the blade, and lets it sink up to the second blade into the ground where she stood. When the demon blinked, he had expected to be coated from head to hoof in her guts; but when his eyes opened to feel a sharp blade against the back of his neck, he felt something he hadn’t felt in a very long time: fear. She hovers there for inexorable seconds, and slowly back steps away from him. Dragging the sword along with her, she leaves a slight cut as a memory. No deeper or worse than a paper-cut, he feels the physical and emotional sting left behind. A cold feeling churns inside of him, as he looks at the handle of his axe, and her sword. He calculates and estimates odds and probabilities, but none go in his favor. Slowly standing, he stares at her with all of his anger and emotions coursing through him, and gives three consecutive snorts. Scooping off his uniquely shaped bull helmet, he throws it to her feet and says:

            “You probably would have been a shitty fuck anyways.”

Tentatively backing away, he leaves the axe in place and walks back through the ranks, taking half of them with him. Trailing behind him, a very human-looking demon chides him with no effect. Turning around to face Kayla the demon screams to the remaining army, “ATTACK! Attack now or you all will die in the Hell of Boiling Water!”

Kayla is genuinely surprised that anyone actually charged, and had been hoping for a peaceful resolution. With her hopes gone, she charges into the foray slicing and bashing all that oppose her. Despite the retreat of over half of the army, the remaining half easily numbered in the thousands. With the police forces making headway towards her, she realized that the demons leading the advance were capable strategists. Losing track of the dead, she sees the futility in this head to head fight and backs her way to the police lines. Disappearing into the mass of combatants, she retreats to where hospital staff is trying to rescue the fallen. Despite the battle around them, many are venturing extremely close to the combat zones. Looking around, Kayla sees a familiar face amongst the paramedics, and makes her way towards it.

Grabbing Lacey’s arm, Kayla yells: “We need to end this!” Kayla tries not to let Lacey scramble away seeing her previously comatose friend up and around. Kayla motions to stay put as someone else she recognizes rushes by to join in the fight around them. Reaching out she snags Officer Alicia Green’s arm, causing her to lose her balance and collapse to one knee to keep from falling. Seeing Kayla, she loses all of her vibrant color and her mouth drops wide open. Kayla shakes her head and says, “Yes, it’s me, I’m alive, and we need to do something really big if we want this end in our favor! And if we don’t do it now, no one will be around to enjoy it! The majority of their generals and captains are vampires! If we take them out of the battle, I think that the rest of these guys will turn tails.” Alicia, clueless to what Kayla is talking about, shakes her head in bewilderment in how to accomplish the task. Lacey, on the other hand, seems to be thinking about something on the tip of her tongue. She bursts out: “A Ball of sunshine? We can’t do that without getting some sunlight first!”

Smiling, Kayla says “Ever heard of Imperial Grace or holy light?” Seeing Lacey nod in recognition to what she’s talking about, Kayla continues. “Think you can change it to handle that instead of sunlight?”

Lacey thinks about it momentarily and says, “Yah, but you still have to get that? Where are we going to get anyone to cast that…that hasn’t been done since…” Lacey trails off and Kayla interrupts. “No one has done it since Alticia wrote of it in her scrolls. I know! But do you think you can alter the sunshine spell to accommodate that light instead of sunlight?” Nodding, Lacey screams out over the din of the battle around them. “Yah but I don’t have any glass balls or globes! I’d have to create false glass, and that only works as long as I concentrate. As soon as I do anything else, poof, it’s gone! The spell will be broken and the light goes with it!”

Dragging Alicia up, Kayla yells to Lacey, “All you‘ll have to do is hold it for a few minutes, at most! Center it atop the hospital, and that should get every vampire here. I’ll get your light just you get on that roof.” Without saying a word, Lacey sprints to the hospital, while Kayla grasps Alicia’s arm. “We need to get to a better location! Lacey needs to have us in a better spot to do it!”

Dodging and ducking, the pair make their way out to the very edge of the battle and wait for Lacey to call Alicia to say that she’s ready. Alicia yells to Kayla, “How did you come back? I mean what revived you from your coma? I heard that it can happen like that but…” Alicia is cut off as her cell phone screams out Lacey’s readiness. Answering it, she nods to Kayla and hangs up. “She’s ready!”

Kayla smiles reassuringly into Alicia’s deep green eyes and says, “Do you trust me?” Alicia nods, half-scared and nervous. “Uh…yes. I mean…” Kayla cuts her off, silencing her rambling. “You need to trust me implicitly, no doubt, no worry. I know you can do that. You’re the best student I have!” Alicia is genuinely surprised by those words and is completely taken back. Before she can restart her rambling, Kayla says, “Do you trust me, Alicia?”

Taking a deep breath, Alicia musters a new found confidence and declares, “Yes, Sensai! I’d follow you no matter where you led me.” Meeting Alicia’s beaming smile, Kayla responds, “Then close you eyes, and repeat after me. And no matter what you hear or feel, continue repeating it for as long as you have strength. I’ll be letting your hands go, but I’ll be in here.” Kayla places her hand lightly on Alicia’s chest, and they exchange another round of smiling. “Now, let’s begin.”

      

Lacey arrives on the roof, panting desperately. Trying to catch her breath, she looks for the Eastern corner and rushes to the edge. Looking down, she eyes the battle and fishes out her cell phone. After speaking a couple of words to Alicia, she closes the phone, and begins reciting the incantation. It forms one continuous loop, repeating itself over and over, waiting for the light to fill the expanding globe. For Lacey, time ceases to exist, sacrificing all her senses to execute the spell. She will not know how long it took Kayla to get the light or how she got it.

 

Taking each other’s hands, the pair becomes one; and soon only Alicia is speaking. If she had noticed, she might have stopped to ask what the matter was. Kayla breathes deeply and lets Alicia’s hands fall to her sides, and loosens the straps to her hood. Sliding the hood off, she faces away from Alicia, takes her hands, and puts them against the back of her neck. Alicia, engulfed by the incantation, is completely oblivious to her surroundings, to say the least her hands. Kayla grasps her sword tightly and releases the last of her energy into the sword. Summoning an ancient force bound deep inside of her, she exhales deeply and a light flickers to life. It grows rapidly, fed by Alicia’s pure soul, and centers around Kayla.

For John, the disappearance of the small woman made little difference for his situation. Smashing and bashing his way through the battle lines, he saw little hope for anyone. When the explosion of light detonated behind him, he’d thought a fuel-air bomb had exploded. Expecting to be vaporized from the blast, he’s surprised that the light is warm and soothing. For a split second, he believed it was the pearly gates of heaven opening up for him, and was slightly afraid to actually turn and look. For not looking backwards, he’s rewarded by the sight of hundreds of the demons bursting into flame and exploding from the light. In a minute, the thousands of demons massing at the front door of San Angeles Memorial, are a fading memory. The light offers the one glimmer of hope he’d prayed would come. As the light shifts into the sky, John sees the thousands of demons, are converted to a mere couple of hundred of retreating creatures surrounded by burning and smoldering statues which had once been demons themselves. Scrambling back into the darkness, the remaining demons waste no time in their retreat, and shove aside enemy and ally alike. Likening the scene to when you flick on the lights of your kitchen and the roaches scatter for all corners, the remaining forces knew their defeat had come.

Wanting to get a better look at the source of the light, he squints behind him, and sees the light has become a pole extending from the ground, to about twelve stories into the air. The light, a brilliant and pure white, effectively conceals the occupants. The steady light lasts for several minutes, and suddenly grows in intensity. As the last of the demons are out of both sight and range, all near the column cover their eyes from the piercing radiance. Seconds later, the light explodes plunging the hospital back into darkness, and an eerie silence wraps over the survivors. No one speaks or has the courage to break the overbearing still of the night. Dazed and perplexed, most just find a spot to rest on the ground and spend their time trying to make sense of the last twelve hours, while some walk around hugging the living and grieving for the dead. John decides to meander to ground zero of the light, and investigate the area. Like a crime scene investigator, he takes his flashlight and scours the area for clues. After twenty minutes, all he finds is Alicia Green’s police issue helmet, glow rod, and no signs of her or the small woman.

Paramedics and hospital staff begin rushing out and tending the injured, and in many cases covering the dead. Numb to the carnage, he wanders aimlessly counting off the fallen and making note of the survivors when found. More often than he’d care to recall, an officer would be on their last breath and would ask for reassurance that it was over. Trying to stay strong with an upper lip, he nods and puts on his best stoic mask. After two hours, he finally lets a paramedic take him inside and sit him down in a chair for a quick evaluation. As they clean and stitch his wounds, he sees a familiar face stumble through the elevator doors, looking horrified and overcome with grief. Covered in blood and bruises from knives and clubs, Faith throws an intern across the room who tries to stop her to give her aid. After the forth orderly, John grabs her from behind and struggles to keep his hold on her. He’s amazed with so many wounds she has as much fight left in her; and only after getting the sedative can he even begin to relax his bear-like hold. 

           

**September 30, 2032**

**San Angeles, (1:20PM)**

 

            Groggily awakening, Faith’s sore muscles scream as she tries to lift a lock of hair out of her face. Feeling like a mummy, she examines the countless bandages covering her from head to toe. Flexing her arms and legs, she feels confident to remove the bandages and tears them off. The bandages, soaked with blood, reveal completely undamaged and unblemished skin. After several minutes, she finds her clothes are nowhere around. Frustrated, she rings the nurse as she calls Lacey’s beeper; even as the nurse scolds her and calls for an orderly to help. Faith tries to talk to Willow, but leaves a message instead. Not feeling up to roughing up a fresh orderly, Faith surrenders and returns to her bed until reinforcements can arrive.

            After another three hours of tests and every doctor within three floors coming by to review her records, she endures the poking, prodding, and too many eyes examining her body for non-sexual reasons. When Lenina arrives, she takes control and empties the room, shooing them out and throwing Faith’s medical records at them; the metal case crashes and clangs causing a commotion in itself. Locking the door behind her, she tosses the gym bag she’d been toting behind her back onto Faith’s legs.

            “Well your friend Willow got a hold of me, and informed me that if we don’t work your release, we’d have to come to restrain you against your will. And, she noted that would only infuriate you further, so I convinced the chief that it was best for everyone’s sake I just come and sign you out. Sign the release papers, change, and I’ll drop you off at your place.” 

            Jumping out of bed, signing the papers at the top of the bag, and ripping off the hospital gown, she throws open the bag and pulls out a set of Lenina’s workout sweats. Lenina, shocked and embarrassed by Faith’s lack of concern for her public nudity, turns around to offer privacy and hide her beet-red face, having gotten more than an eye’s worth. Faith further drives her indifference to her nudity, by trying to ask Lenina about Kayla.

            “So has anyone even seen Kayla or Alicia? I heard there was some commotion here at the hospital, and I thought maybe that was her; but when I went to Kayla’s room, the window was smashed, a couple of demons were wasted, and the lobby window was history. What gives?”

            Nervously, Lenina tries to reply. “Uh…I was on the north side of the hospital, but John said a small woman rode the creature out of the window, and landed in such a way that she snapped his neck when they hit the ground. She was unhurt, and she had a sword. She somehow did a light trick and wiped out or scared off the majority of the monsters. It was…indescribable. If it weren’t for her, I doubt anyone would have survived last night. You really think that was Kayla?”

            Faith, thinking and judging what her heart thinks, nods and says: “Yup. That sounds like my girl. She’d always told me that if I was alive and she was dead, she would come back from the darkness and pits of hell to fight at my side. She said those words with such resolution and commitment that I know that was her. If we can’t find a body, then that means she’s not dead; and I can’t give up on her again. I won’t. And if that means I have to wait until I’m as old and cranky as Willow, then so be it!”

            Throwing on the sandals Lenina had brought, she closes the bag and lets Lenina lead her out of the hospital, towards a future that was just as scary and unknown, as it was when she was first told she was a vampire slayer. After changing, she stops by Willow’s apartment and assures them of her commitment to stay in San Angeles. “I have to stick around here in case Kayla makes a showing. I want to continue her work with the department, and I guess I’m not ready to run away anymore. Look, I’m not saying that I won’t have my moments, but if I know I got people who believe in me here…what the hell. I’m game.”

            Accepting their invitation to dinner, Faith spends the evening patrolling, and tries not to dwell over Kayla’s absence from her life.

 

 

 

 

**Epilogue**

 

**March 18, 2033**

**San Angeles, (9:05PM)**

 

            Whisking through CityCemetery number eight for the fifth time this week, Faith tromps noisily in pursuit of the last surviving vampire of a quartet, having just risen that evening. Wearing a fine business suit, the man formerly known as Alexander Jennings was an excellent sprinter, but lacked the kind of long distance running skills Faith had honed. Despite those skills, Faith is always twenty feet from catching him, or he makes a miraculous escape over a tall wall. Having chased him across five other cemeteries, she was finally losing patience with the chase. With a burst of speed she smiles evilly as she closes with the terrified executive vampire, and prepares to knock him face first into the dirt. As she gets within reach the vampire subtly jumps a little higher than normal and avoids a freshly dug grave. Faith, oblivious to the hole, disappears into the grave, bouncing off the sides. With her head spinning like a Ferris wheel, she can only watch the vampire walk to the edge and gloat over her with a shovel in hand. As he opens his mouth to drive his point, an arrow bursts through his chest letting only a gurgle escape before he detonates into a cloud of dust. The shovel falls into the grave with faith, and she uses it to climb out.

            Looking around, she sees no one but the lone arrow lying where the vampire had once stood. Picking it up, she notices the arrow wasn’t store-bought or manufactured, having a distinctive handcrafted look to it. Looking once more for the owner and seeing nobody, she gives up, and meanders back to her apartment. Tossing the arrow on her coffee table, she kicks off her boots, and checks to see if she has any messages. Disappointed, she quickly disrobes, and showers before heading to bed; all the while wondering who her savior was.

Over the last six months, her schedule had taken a turn for the good, when they put her on a ten to six afternoon shift, letting her sleep in and still do slayer patrol at night. With sleeping in until the later morning, she at least felt like doing her job despite not having Kayla around to nag her and give her hell about her lack of training. More often than not, she’d fall into a rut of work, patrol, and sleep. Even with her antisocial behavior, Willow, Tara, and Lacey would drag her out of it and keep her from letting it consume her.

            The evening of March nineteenth was establishing itself as just one of those usual slow nights. Having dusted a fresh pair of vampires by eight, she’d meandered to the Red Ribbon Brewery for a fine cool beer; one of the most recent private breweries to sprout up over the last few months. The clientele was quite laid back and the last ‘incident’ there was when the waitress had dropped her order on a drunk customer, and was hysterical for doing it. The victim was more than understanding, but the waitress was in tears. Faith could hardly keep a straight face during the entire exchange. As she downs her first pint, she begins order a second when Officer Gingrich, a young, energetic, sandy-blonde guy, stops her.

            “Officer Lehane! We need you at the south gate! There are two outlanders demanding to enter and are threatening to go thru the gate if we don’t let them in!”

            Faith, trying her best not to laugh in his face, tries to calm the flabbergasted officer and show some genuine concern. “First have you let them in?”

            He thinks for a few seconds and replies, “Well, no.” Shaking her head she follows up her first question with an even better question. “And are the walls and fences still energized?”

            He gives about the same amount of thought to this question as the first. “Uhh…yes.”

            Faith can’t resist sardonically replying. “Then how in the heck are they going to get in?” Shaking her head, she stands and lets the confused officer drive her to the gate to see the pair causing all of the commotion. As they screech to a halt, Officer Gingrich says that they asked for her specifically. Caught by surprise, she walks quickly to the gates and tries to get a good look at the pair. From a display screen, she makes out four ‘people’ total, and is informed that only two want entry. Another officer, Guzman, points to the woman with a long black rain coat, and an old state trooper’s hat. The boots she wears are long overdue replacement, showing years of road abuse. She squats by the gate controls, stretching her sore muscles and waits for someone to come out. Faith takes note of how she avoids the cameras, seemingly aware of their secret locations. Ragged and mud covered, her ensemble seems fittingly matched to their means of locomotion. Officer Guzman informs her that she had apparently given an old pass-code, expired many months ago, and he of course refused entry. Reluctant to give their names, their friends operating the ‘hogs’ patiently wait, but Faith notices the small hand cannons concealed under their coats. The ‘drivers’ of the bikes, seem just as superbly outfitted as the woman, almost if they shopped at the same secondhand store. Faith zooms in on the women operating the bikes, and her hunch proves right, as she clearly discerns the horned helmets, aren’t helmets. She mumbles the precise name of the demons, and also notes they’re some of the rare few who don’t go looking for trouble, but instead try to be ‘useful’ members of society. Though that’s a very general summation, Faith believes, based on her previous encounters with that type, that evaluation is fairly accurate. More often than not, they act as advisors to the underworld, devoted lieutenants to the Watcher’s Council, and even club bouncers. They seem to be only waiting to deliver their passengers, and typically don’t go hanging around untrustworthy types, driven by a strong code of honor and friendship. Making note of the passenger, Faith sees she’s a heavy set woman with long muddy dreadlocks. Though she can’t discern her face or body, she observes the bulkiness of the coat, and notices that it touches the body in various places on the stomach. Those places are far more than what you’d expect from a thin lady. The demonic driver of that bike is keeping her bike running, as if they are expecting trouble, for a quick escape; and, Officer Gingrich points out that the passenger had no identification either, and would only talk to Faith. Getting a good vibe from the odds, she pulls out her badge, and decides to go meet them, despite the chorus against it.

Passing through a small access door, barely able to fit an officer in full riot gear, Faith’s diminutive form easily squeezes through and seals behind her. The four of them immediately turn to face her, and wait for her to get about ten feet from the door before anyone starts to move towards her. Displaying her usual brazen attitude, she shrugs, “So, I’m here! What’s up?”

The woman closest to the door is the first acknowledge her and says in a very soft effeminate voice, “Faith! Don’t you remember me? It’s me?”

The familiarity of the soft mouse-like voice is unmistakable. Faith’s memory buzzes frantically trying to place a face with the voice, but the woman coming towards her doesn’t resemble anyone she’s known recently. Shaking her head no, she tries to see through the shadows onto the dirt-covered visage coming towards her. A warm smile peaks through, and she pulls off her hat, letting a pool of fire-red hair cascade down her shoulders. Faith’s happiness explodes seeing the missing police officer.

“ALICIA! You’re alive! How did you get here? Where did you go?” Faith envelopes her in a bear hug grip, and she gasps out in surprise, from the onslaught of affection.

“I…I was carried off by a friend of ours who nursed me back from the brink. That spell that Lacey was able to channel, nearly killed me, but I’m better now. I was out for about a week; couldn’t even eat for myself. It was amazing…I’m without words. Afterwards, I was indebted, and I helped take care of her; and that’s what I’ve been up to since. You’re looking good. How have you been doing?” Alicia asks quickly.

Faith smiles and nods, “Good…good. It’s only sucked with Kayla not around. I hope we’ll find her; but I believe that if she were dead, I’d have known.”

Alicia smiles and reaches out to squeeze Faith’s arm. “Right you are. How about we go meet our two passengers?”

Faith, taken aback by her wording of the passengers, lets Alicia lead her towards the second motorcycle, and its portly mystery rider. The ‘lady’ demon at the helm, shuts off the bike and knocks the kickstand down, resting the bike. Getting off, she comes to the side facing Faith and offers her arm to the passenger to disembark. Awkwardly, the woman on the back of the bike swings her leg over and roughly sets her feet on the ground. Rubbing her back, she thanks the driver and hugs her. With that, the two motorcyclists fire up their beasts and immediately skirt off, Leaving Faith to the pair. Alicia waves goodbye, and Faith holds her breath as she watches the remaining woman scoop off her hat, and let the mud caked hair free, and Faith sees the least likely but the most wanted person she’s ever known. Flashing a sly grin she says to Faith, “So, you just going to stand there with your jaw flapping in the wind, or are you going to kiss me?”

Faith bursts into tears seeing Kayla, filthy or not. Faith throws herself at Kayla wants to scoop her, but she immediately discovers Kayla’s swollen belly. Taken aback, she steps back and looks at it with curiosity. Kayla only laughs and says, “What? Never seen a pregnant girl before?” Opening her coat, she lifts up her shirt to reveal a very pregnant Kayla. Smiling and rubbing her belly, she says: “Her name is Katya.”  


End file.
